


The Stim Toy

by Falka_tyan



Series: "Numb" Universe [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Bad Parenting, Chastity Device, Cock Cages, Collars, Corporal Punishment, Depression, Dogs, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Hopeful Ending, Kneeling, Masturbation in Bathroom, Moral Dilemmas, Nightmares, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Paddling, Panic Attacks, Past Rape/Non-con, Psychological Drama, Spanking, Suicide Attempt, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-05-12 23:52:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 37,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19239625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falka_tyan/pseuds/Falka_tyan
Summary: There once was a boy who was born a slave and a girl who was born an owner.When they met, their mutual loneliness brought them closer to each other than absolutely necessary.It made their lives different. In some ways, it made their existence better; easier to endure.It also brought out the best in the boy and the worst in the girl as it sometimes happens.The boy's name was Aidan, and the girl's name was Ilse.Learn their story through Aidan's eyes!





	1. 4 days after the Freedom Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [give_it_a_little_nudge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/give_it_a_little_nudge/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Numb](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15063494) by [Falka_tyan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falka_tyan/pseuds/Falka_tyan). 



> Hello, everyone!
> 
> I am happy to greet you at the start of the first chapter of my new original work. I was working on it since March 2019, and it's the longest I've had a story in process before publishing, ever. I am very proud to finally put it here.
> 
> This is a sad, sometimes cruel story. I advise you to heed the tags and make sure you don't feel particularly vulnerable when you start reading.  
> The narration is non-linear. You can look at the chapter titles to navigate the timeline.
> 
> The world where everything happens was created by me for my Voltron fic "Numb". There's a lot to it so I made a little glossary for you: [Facts about the "Numb" AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19193626/). It may be a little spoiler-ish (the last part of the glossary).
> 
> With all this in mind, please, get started and have a good time with my favourite boy, Aidan!

If someone would’ve told a sixteen-year-old Aidan that the slavery will be abolished in about a year after he’s been bought by a decent mistress and that Aidan’s first reaction would be the fear of losing her, Aidan would have laughed that person in the face.

 

Well, he doesn’t feel any desire to laugh now. Least of all today.

 

It’s Freedom Day, and Aidan is considered a free person from now on.

 

It’s Freedom Day, and all other slaves in the house are getting ready to leave.

 

It’s Freedom Day, and Aidan’s Mistress, Ilse, has just thrown the keys to his cock cage at him and disappeared behind her bedroom’s door.

 

## 4 days after the Freedom Day

 

It’s getting dark when Aidan returns to Ilse’s house from his inescapable visit to the Department for Ex-slaves’ Employment. It takes him some time to find out that all other slaves that served there are gone. When Aidan was going out, the last one of them didn’t show any intention of leaving that’s why it’s a bit of a surprise. Not that he and Aidan were close or even speaking to each other. Well, that man has every right to go wherever he wants now, muses Aidan; nothing is holding him here anymore. However, the absence of all slaves, alongside Ilse’s impulsive decision to fire all servants, makes for a very empty, silent, creepy house.

 

Aidan didn’t even know that he hates abandoned buildings with passion. Never been in one before, huh? All his youth, he was always surrounded by so many people; when no one around was shouting or crying or laughing, it felt simply weird.

It’s only him and Ilse now, thinks Aidan, finishing his round of the servants’ and slaves’ rooms on the first floor (he knew that nobody would be there, and still, couldn’t stop himself from checking).

It’s only him and Ilse, thinks Aidan standing in the tiny common room in the servants’ part, and Ilse wouldn’t let him inside her rooms. They spent more than a year attached at the hip; it feels unnatural without her next to him. It feels empty without her.

Aidan checks the doors and counts the keys; he’d prefer Ilse changing the locks everywhere, but she doesn’t seem to care. The security signal system still functions, assured Aidan Ilse’s housekeeper before leaving. The housekeeper had a beautiful room in the servant part of the first floor; Aidan saw it for the first time while helping the woman collect her things and carry them to the taxi two days ago. Aidan thinks about changing the locks himself. He has the tools and he’s sure he’s capable of it, but he doesn’t have spare mechanisms or money to buy them. It’s a pity. Aidan would’ve felt much safer if he could make sure that the house is well-protected.

If the worst comes to the worst, jokes Aidan with himself, they have Mr Mouse. He smiles ruefully at his own cleverness and makes his way to the main living room. There, in the middle of it, he stops and tips his head back, admiring the high windows and the plasterwork in all their beauty. There is no one to tell him to keep his eyes trained on the floor, nowadays. There is also no one here (or anywhere else, for that matter) he has to be wary of when he “acts out of line”; the way things stand, he simply can’t sully Ilse’s social image with indisciplined behaviour. So finally, after more than a year in Ilse’s house, Aidan can stand with his head held high and his body fully covered and look his fill of the tasteful design of the room where he spent so much time kneeling at Ilse’s feet.

The room is enormous and even more beautiful than Aidan noticed. He feels a pang of regret when he realises he still can’t share it with Ilse. Aidan shakes his head violently to get rid of the sad thoughts and then slaps himself on the cheeks for good measure; no need to get lost in his unrealistic dreams right now.

Too late for that, though. After he mentions Ilse to himself, Aidan’s mind gets caught into the same loop as before.

While it is an unprecedented case for Aidan, it may be what Ilse always wanted, right? To be left alone? She doesn’t have to worry about the others’ cruel words and opinions anymore when no one is there. Aidan knows firsthand how much Ilse hates being seen. Aidan has a feeling that she always expects people around her to judge her for something. In Aidan’s experience, when it happens for real, it usually is something she couldn’t have predicted and had no control over. But to Ilse, it looks like she should have paid attention and do better. That, Aidan can relate to. He, too, wants to do his best in any given situation and blames himself if something goes wrong. But, for the love of goddess, Aidan can’t understand why Ilse wouldn’t ever stand for herself. She’s free, she’s rich, she’s clever. In her heart of hearts, she doesn’t give a flying fuck about what other people think. She secretly despises most of them. Why does she always agree to be everyone’s punching bag, then?!

Fuming quietly, Aidan does the brave thing and sits down on one of the two plush lime-green sofas in the center of the main living room. Aidan has eyed the sofas since the Day. Now, he finally allows himself _on_ the furniture, one, and takes Ilse’s father’s spot, no less, two. It’s the exact place that was always reserved for the old asshat, were he to come by out of the blue. Sitting there feels like a small victory but even this doesn’t improve Aidan’s mood by much.

Aidan climbs onto the sofa with his socked feet (the shoes stay on the floor) and makes himself comfortable. He ends up lying on his back with his head on a little pillow and one leg thrown over the couch’s backrest. Aidan has to make a conscious effort to stay where he is. He keeps jumping up at every bird’s chirp from the outside because he gets the feeling that someone is coming after him, and that he is destined to be at the whipping post come evening - for disgracing the couch with his unworthy body. Aidan reminds himself that Ilse, most certainly, would be amused by him, and nothing more. Then, his thoughts take a more serious turn, and he forgets about the imminent dangers of being a disrespectful slave.

Aidan lies on the sofa and thinks about Ilse’s current predicament. It must feel so odd for her, to be called out on being a slave-owner. She grew up knowing that she’s the upper class, that she can have people as property. No matter what her thoughts on it were, that was the order of things. And now, the slaves are freed by the new regime and she is basically shamed for ever owning any; that is how Aidan sees it after visiting the Department two days in a row. Aidan thinks that Ilse shouldn’t take it personally. She didn’t choose her parents, right? Aidan saw her other slaves - their life was not different from the life of her free servants in any aspect. Then Aidan remembers that Ilse also owned (owns?) a toy factory, where all the workers were slaves, about which he knows close to nothing, and decides that he can’t say for sure that Ilse was a good owner on the overall, or not. What if she treated her factory slaves worse than Aidan’s first owner his little farmers? Now, that’s a disconcerting idea.

Aidan remembers some heated discussions at the board’s video conferences he was privy to from under Ilse’s table. It’s not easy at all, to own a company even in the times of stability, but now? Must be ten times harder. No wonder Ilse is so thrown off balance by the latest events. She must be all over the place from nerves. Yeah, right?

But Aidan is already sick of worrying about his ex-Owner, and, imperceptibly for him, the focus of his thoughts shifts from Ilse to himself.

So, Ilse is all hurt and confused up there in her bedroom. But how does she think Aidan feels?

His life was put upside down in one short day, and Ilse wouldn’t even talk to him properly, one on one. Doesn’t she owe him at least that? - marvels Aidan. After all he’s given her?

As if a switch has been flipped, Aidan is suddenly very angry at Ilse. Aidan thinks that spontaneous self-isolation can’t help her learn how to tell others to leave her alone. Does she enjoy it so much? The silence, the solitude? Maybe, Aidan should just leave, too, like everyone else did, - finally make use of the space provided by the Department, be with other ex-slaves - with his own kin. He doesn’t even have to inform Ilse in any form before he goes. Then, when Aidan is gone, she will be truly alone, just how she wanted to!

Immediately after that, Aidan feels ashamed of his wishes. Ilse is all by herself now, yes, but not by choice. Her closest family has left without her. Ilse’s father and mother took their first son and several of Ilse’s cousins, boarded a plane and fled the country the next evening after the Day, with the clear intention of not returning. In Aidan’s understanding, Ilse learnt about her family fleeing from the news, just like he did. She couldn’t confide in Aidan, the last person staying by her side, though: was too preoccupied ignoring said Aidan.

Aidan finds it infuriating.

Aidan wants to shout in Ilse’s face. Wants to throw things.

Aidan wants to cry at her feet. Aidan wants her gaze on him, again.

Aidan wants...

 

Actually, if Aidan is being honest with himself,  his thoughts are a bit blurry. He needs to rest properly. Grudgingly, Aidan makes himself stand up from the luxurious sofa and stretches his sore muscles. It’s a long walk to the Department from Ilse’s house, and Aidan feels weird about using his ex-slave ID-card in public transportation. Hell, he only knows how to walk, how to run a tractor and how to be driven around in a car! What does he even do when he boards a bus? This new world is so confusing!

 

He needs a long night of sleep. Maybe, he’ll be lucky and the nightmares won’t come. But first, he needs to eat. The meal he was offered at the Department was tasteless and unfamiliar; Aidan finished his portion, but he didn’t feel sated. Maybe, it was just his nerves. Sighing, Aidan wanders into the empty kitchen. He checks the fridge: just as he expected, Ilse hasn’t touched any of the simple dishes Aidan has cooked. What does she even eat? Is she suddenly courageous enough to eat out alone every day or go to a supermarket while Aidan is busy establishing his new life? Maybe, she just orders take-out while Aidan is busy. Well, there is still raw food stocked in the freezer and it doesn’t have to go to waste because of some petty revolution. He will continue cooking. Aidan takes his usual place at the table and eats his rice with chicken. He wonders idly what they’ll do when Ilse finally comes out of her room and talks to him. They are equals now whether she likes it or not. Maybe, Aidan will finally be able to call her by her name openly. Or will she make him call her Missis? That will be awkward because Aidan will definitely slip and say “Mistress” instead.

Aidan doesn’t consider the option of being told to go away when they meet next. He crashes the thought as soon as it appears. He can’t go there. He can’t.

After his meal, he washes his plate and looks the kitchen over - everything seems to be in order. He could take care of the plants (he never thought there are that many in the mansion! it’s insane!) but he mostly managed to water them all yesterday, so it’s not urgent. Nothing is urgent anymore.

Aidan sighs. He can’t stall forever. He can’t avoid his sleeping place eternally if he wants to get some good night’s rest.

Or, reminds himself Aidan, he can just choose another room and another bed since there’s no one else to use them ( _and sleep with comfort until Ilse orders him to leave_ ). No, this won’t do; he wants to stay close to Ilse, for as long as possible ( _what if she really makes him go away as soon as she sees him next?_ ). So Aidan collects his brand-new bag from the entrance hall and starts walking to his destination.

 

The flowers in the vases on the coffee tables and the shelves in the main living room need to be changed, notices Aidan in passing. They are already dead, though, so Aidan leaves them be, for now. They don’t even smell bad yet.

 

Practically on autopilot, Aidan climbs the stairs to the second floor, walks down the long corridor leading to Ilse’s private wing, enters its anteroom and settles down onto his futon there. He doesn’t take his clothes off, doesn’t put his bag on the floor. He longs for the freedom his nudity was giving him, yet doesn’t undress, not even here. It feels too out of place right now.

His bag is all stiff corners and creaky faux leather which makes hugging it to his chest uncomfortable (and loud). Unfortunately, Aidan can’t shake off the irrational fear that if he leaves that bag alone when he falls asleep, all his new possessions will get lost. Aidan knows it’s unreasonable, but he can’t make himself unclench his hands. Aidan knows that for any free person out there losing such a bag wouldn’t be such a big deal. Inside it, there’s only the standard kit of the kind that every ex-slave received upon the start of their re-education. But to Aidan, it’s not as simple: after all, these are the first things he is allowed to consider his and only his. The first things _he owns_. The kit is individualized, in a way: the bag and its contents have Aidan’s ID printed on them. Among other, smaller stuff, there are toiletries, a paper notebook, pens, some documents in a plastic folder, and a wallet. Everything is plain and easy to use.

This is how the state is investing in him. First, Aidan learns a lot of new things in a short span of time and becomes a useful worker, then he repays the new Monarch’s kindness by being a loyal citizen. To Aidan, it seems fair. Actually, if Aidan is being honest with himself, this bag is just the cherry on top of the main event - him being granted freedom. He would do his best to take part in the building of the new, slavery-free society even if the Monarch ordered the owners to drop all their slaves on the streets to fend for themselves after the big reform and Aidan would have to fight tooth and nail just to stay alive. Before the Day, Aidan would have given up a limb for freedom if he had the option.

 

Aidan closes his eyes and sighs wistfully. Not being a slave anymore - Aidan didn’t even dare to dream of it, but it happened.

 

It was high time, too. Aidan was so done with assholes telling him what to do and being unable to say “no”.

Strangely, but when Aidan thinks about “assholes”, he doesn’t include Ilse.

Hasn’t she been one of them, by all means?

No, stop, tells Aidan himself, don’t go there. Not tonight. You need your sleep.

The self-admonishment doesn’t work, of course - Aidan’s thoughts stray to Ilse the very second he relaxes a little (all he ever does nowadays is thinking of Ilse, and it would’ve been funny if it wasn’t so sad). Thinking of her brings the anxiety with it - Aidan can’t shake off the horror of disappointing Ilse, being unable to meet her requirements simply because she doesn’t even state them. Not knowing what will happen to him, _to them_ , doesn’t make anything easier.

 

Aidan keeps the last book Ilse’s given him to read in the precious bag of his. He doesn’t plan on returning it to Ilse’s library. Now that she doesn’t as much as greet him, he feels like he has to keep that book, just in case. What if it will be the only thing from his life here with Ilse that he will be able to retain? Makes the task of saving the bag from thieves (ha!) even more important.

Actually, Aidan can easily explain why he never undresses at home anymore. He can’t let either the social workers (if they ever make their promised visit here) or Ilse see that he still wears his cock cage.

Luckily, the social workers at The Department’s premises don’t force him to undress since he doesn’t show any visible signs of abuse. They would think Aidan is brain-washed or something if they saw the metal device. Aidan doesn’t want to try to explain anything about himself and his relationship with chastity to anyone. Except for, maybe, Ilse herself. He’d show her the key hanging from his neck and tell her that he lets himself out of the cage every morning and also every time he wants it when he’s at home. He’d tell her that he doesn’t take it off completely and forever because of two reasons: first, he feels indecent and exposed without it; second, he likes the thought of having the control over the device that defined his daily life for more than a year. But he knows that Ilse won’t understand.

She never did, realises Aidan. She _couldn’t_. She doesn’t have any background for that. What if she always thought that Aidan is just a very clever toy? She never paid attention to what Aidan might feel deep inside, only to his basic reactions. She never trusted him fully, and why would she?

Aidan deluded himself when he thought they got each other in some ways others never could.

That’s unfair. She needed him so much that Aidan rarely had more than five hours a week to himself (his time in the gym which she often supervised or her bathing time don’t count), but it seems that she never even considered letting him in, allowing him to get closer.

Aidan feels the familiar pang of pain in his chest. He can’t help himself; he always feels hurt when he thinks of Ilse and her current evasiveness. Aidan knows it’s illogical and stupid to feel that way. It’s his own fault he got hurt.

Who was he to her, not taking his fever dreams into account? Just a slave, nothing more. Who is Aidan to her now? Just a stranger.

A stray thought alarms Aidan and almost makes him hyperventilate. She didn’t really run off herself somewhere far away, letting Aidan sit vigil at the entrance to her empty rooms, did she?

No, this can’t be, assures Aidan himself frantically. His heart beats as fast as a rabbit's. She just couldn’t. Ilse is not like that.

Not like that, huh?

What makes him so sure?

Aidan spent a year and two months serving her, and now he can’t leave her house, he’s tied to it, he’s stuck here, and she pretends he does not exist! It is so… ignorant! And careless!

From fear, Aidan’s emotions shift towards anger once again.

 

All this time, Aidan has been doing his best for Ilse and she never noticed. She never appreciated how much he was giving.

 

Aidan gave her _his all_ , and still, it was not enough.

 

Aidan feels like he might start crying now; it’s stupid.

 

Fighting tears, Aidan thinks that if he ignores the memories of his unnecessary sacrifices, he can convince himself that they can act normal around each other.

 

Ilse is the only close person he has. Funny thing, that, huh? And, what’s even funnier, Ilse doesn’t have anyone who cared about her more than Aidan does. Aidan would know.

 

Goddess, it’s so foolish that he keeps coming back here! And not just to the house itself, but to his old sleeping place when he doesn't’ have to! He has other, rather nice variants! But no. Look at him, crawling back into his old kennel like the obedient, well-trained dog he is!

 

Maybe, trying to become a real citizen will be futile and all the money the state spends on him will go to waste - it may become apparent with the time that he’s hopeless and can’t survive without a steady hand holding his leash.

 

No, incorrect: he’s not hopeless, he’s simply pathetic. If even Ilse doesn’t want to deal with him anymore…

 

Aidan hugs his bag close to his chest and makes himself as comfortable on the futon as he can. It’s cosy and familiar, despite everything.

 

He ignores the suspicious burning sensation in his eyes as best as he can. To spend the night, he settles on his side with his back to the wall. His gaze flits to the door of Ilse’s living room one last time, and then the exhaustion takes its toll - Aidan is out like a light.


	2. 4 months before the Freedom Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aidan's life is a fascinating mix of boring and stressful.  
> It's a good thing he adapts so well.
> 
> or a simple day in Aidan's life at his Mistress' house where he thinks about the spankings he suffered from her hand and the times when Ilse was nice to slaves in general and to him, individually.
> 
> Attention, an NSFW art at the start of the chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone!
> 
> The second chapter is here! It's monotonous and full of triggering shit, yet important for future events.  
> Read the tags if you haven't already!  
> Aidan is a good boy. He deserves a hug.

 

His life is a blessed monotony of repressed sexual urges, submission, books and Ilse’s voice. For the first time in his life, he allows himself to let his guard down, a little: to stop expecting a turn for the worse every second. Ilse is not kind but her cruelty is familiar and thus not scary. Aidan lets her take what she wants from him. He has long decided that she gives him back enough: with her smiles, with her constant touching and petting, with her stories and the proud looks she throws his way almost daily. She knows how to make him writhe in passion or beg; she knows how to make him giggle; she knows how to put him into a pleasurable haze where even her nasty riding crops don’t cause real pain. She earned the right to witness all this - unlike most of the people Aidan met, Ilse took her time to get to know him, put the effort into it.

Aidan knows that her eagerness in studying her slave’s habits doesn’t mean there’s an equal exchange going on between them. Yet, it makes a world of difference.

 

He would be interested in meeting Ilse in another lifetime, maybe. If there is one where they both are not bound by their social standing and are willing to take a closer look at the other.

In this lifetime, unfortunately, neither of them can be considered truly free.

Aidan made peace with that; Ilse couldn’t.

 

Aidan and Ilse’s first birthdays together come and go, in December and January accordingly. Aidan gets to choose what he gets for dinner and a flogging, Ilse gets to spend a day holed up inside her bedroom, with a book and all her phones shut down. The next day, she complains that no one tried to contact her all day long, and with so much passion at that that Aidan almost believes she wasn’t the one to make sure no one could.

Aidan can’t ask if she did that every year before that; somehow, he’d bet the answer would be “yes”. He also can’t point out that she doesn’t really give anyone a chance; she just doesn’t like to take that risk, he supposes, - what if she did and no one called? But what if she misses someone’s call once? A call from someone important? Well, Aidan won’t volunteer to point it out.

 

Aidan rubs his smarting bum soothingly.

Ilse doesn’t take her own failures lightly.

  
  


These are just Mondays - the days of the video conferences, he reminds himself. Ilse is clever, but she is not a businesswoman, not by a long shot - during such conferences she feels overpowered and patronized. She has studied something like Botanics, as far as Aidan knows. She likes plants and solitude, not arguing and conquering the market. It is only logical that Mondays are her least favourite days and, by proxy, - Aidan’s.

There’s nothing she hates more than being wrong. Or, more precisely, when someone points her mistakes out to her, especially in public.

 

Aidan’s Mistress tends to give him more attention than usual when she’s annoyed or angry. Her attention means pain, and, while Aidan can take it, he is never thrilled about it. To be unable to sit on his ass without wincing or only be able to crawl just because Ilse’s day was awful isn’t really fair to him. Aidan is aware of how lucky he is that Ilse isn’t as unstable on other weekdays. Not all slaves can say the same about their owners.

Ilse says that Aidan makes the prettiest sounds when the soles of his feet get birched and that he should be proud of his endurance. How Aidan manages to not roll his eyes at her after such words, stays unsaid.

Speaking about lesser emotions… There are not many things that annoy Ilse as much as pointless chatting during those meetings. It’s like a regular reminder of her inadequacy, she says. It’s as if her father found another way to mock her.

Aidan thinks she could be more grateful for having her own house at her young age. One day filled with meetings is not a big price for that. Not at all. She just has to be a responsible daughter and endure every Monday patiently. Then, she is free to tend to her mini-garden, sample new cakes from the bakery down the street or drill Aidan on taking the poses she likes until the end of the week.

It’s good that Ilse doesn’t ever ask for his opinion on that, after all.

  
In many aspects, Ilse is an odd person. For that instance, her hobbies are weird. At least, in Aidan’s eyes. But what does he know of rich people’s ways? Where Aidan sees a tomato, Ilse sees a curious plant with its own history and meaning. It’s not that there’s something wrong with her; Aidan is just too uneducated.

 

What Ilse likes most of all are, obviously, books (plants take the rightful second place). She loves reading. She’d spend all her time devouring new issues of science magazines on orchids or fantasy novels, in any combination. Aidan would like to read one of those modern novels, too, actually. Ilse’s face is the most expressive when she reads them, so there must be something cool inside. Aidan rarely has enough luck to see her expression, unfortunately. More often than not, she likes him to sit at her feet by the armchair while she reads. She likes playing with his hair between turning the pages. Aidan finds it relaxing, and he often falls into a sort of a trance, sitting there boneless and calm, at least until something in the plot catches her attention and she pulls his hair too hard. She never notices, of course. If she destroys Aidan’s little harbour of peace too often during one reading session, Aidan often can’t retreat into himself anymore and gets restless as the result. When he is fully present, it gets incredibly boring to just sit on the carpet and accept her caresses. In such times, Aidan wishes that he could misbehave so that she would have to stop her reading and discipline him.

It’s incredibly stupid of him to wish for a punishment, reminds Aidan himself each time it happens. He knows punishment. He can’t be serious when he wants to exchange boredom at Ilse’s feet for a date with a whip. He knows that. Yet, sometimes, when the lack of variety gets too much to bear, he wishes to go back to the farm, to the hard daily work and the company of other slaves. There would be no time to think, no time to remember, no time to really get to know himself. Aidan hates having too much free time. Aidan hates not having a task for too long. Aidan hates…

A tug on his collar. She _did_ notice him.

 

Aidan swallows reflexively. Above him, Ilse exclaims in a tone one would scold a three-year-old:

“Are you mad at me for not letting you play with that scary monster in the garden today? I would have, you know, were it not so wet and dirty outside. What if the monster scratches you with its bacteria-covered claws, hmm? I don’t want to clean your inflamed wounds every day until you heal, you know!”

She sounds silly and childish in that moment, calling the old fluffy grey-and-white sheepdog a monster. No, Ilse’s love for grotesque is something else. Aidan barely holds his exasperated sigh. Luckily for him, he manages it - him showing his annoyance with her antics will not anger, but hurt her, and she will distance herself from Aidan. When that happens, she won’t talk to him, won’t touch him much, and it can go on like that for several days. Aidan can’t stand it. His life gets even more boring than usual then, not to mention the persistent feeling of guilt.

Also, the very idea that she would tend to his wounds herself, as she said, warms his heart. Because he knows that she will, if necessary. For all her grand talk of dirty dogs, she’s not squeamish, not at all. Aidan has seen her providing first aid to a female slave who’s had a nasty accident in the kitchen. The girl’s arm looked disgusting even to Aidan, and yet, Ilse didn’t hesitate to tend to her, doing her best to alleviate the girl’s pain while they waited for the doctor to arrive.

The memory makes Aidan think about that time in more detail.

That was Aidan’s first month in Ilse’s house - seven months ago. He saw his Mistress in a different light that day; she acted and moved as if she was another person - strong, confident, skilful. Aidan likes to recall this moment as his first “revelation”.

As if to downplay Aidan’s joy from his discovery, Ilse tormented him especially long that day. By the end of his service, he was sobbing into her bedding while she cooed at him soothingly and smacked his red-and-blue ass lightly with a ruler just to see him squirm. Back then, Aidan was only learning that any intense emotional experiences of Ilse’s quickly transformed into intense sessions for him. To make life easier for him was not among her goals.

The next day, Aidan had another “revelation”: he learned that, in Ilse’s household, he is absolutely untouchable. Ilse fired her gardener on the spot after the latter decided it was funny to slap Aidan on his well-bruised butt when Aidan came down to the garden to play with the dog. Ilse was livid. Aidan remembers thinking that the gardener was lucky that he was not a slave - Ilse would have him whipped _so_ harshly. She’d totally do it herself: since no one else in the house, other than Aidan, gets spanked, she’d not deem anyone from the staff fit for the task (it’s if anyone would’ve volunteered). She wouldn’t have shown the man mercy. Aidan thinks, the ex-gardener didn’t even realise the magnitude of his mistake and the heap of consequences he avoided by being a free person.

Aidan forgot about the incident almost immediately. But it left him with a new feeling of being protected from the world when he was in Ilse’s hands. Ilse has proven that Aidan belongs to her and no one else, which means no one is allowed to touch him except for her. Ever. He is safe with her.

So yes, Aidan’s believe that Ilse would lick his wounds for him is not unreasonable. For her property should be treated with the utmost care, and she is the only one who is allowed to provide it. But enough reminiscences for today: there are more urgent things to consider.

 

 

Today is the day when Aidan is allowed to “relieve the tension”, as Ilse calls it.

In reality, it just means half an hour of desperate masturbating in her bathroom for him. And isn’t that the most absurd thing in Aidan’s current life?

At first, it seemed almost unbearably humiliating. The worst part of being locked.

Then, the more months Aidan spent there, the more he got used to it. At some point, the annoyance faded into the background and the monthly release became just another part of Aidan’s routine even if he never came close to understanding what Ilse gets out of it.

Sure, it’s easier to live with the cage always on, after all this time, but the urge to come still doesn’t ever go away completely. Aidan longs for a release almost every morning, thinks about jerking off several times a day. This simmering frustration is Aidan’s constant companion - he’s come to accept it.

In his head, he should be able to finish in less than a minute after being freed from the cage. Yet, in reality, on the last Friday of every month, when Aidan finally gets the key to his cage and is left alone to jerk off,  _ specifically told to _ jerk off even _ , _ he feels out of his depth. Sometimes, he barely manages to get hard by the time he has to exit the bathroom or invite Ilse inside to supervise the process of putting the cage back on.

Even after eight months at Ilse’s, some things don’t get easier.

Aidan can’t believe he has a problem with keeping it up. He is only nineteen, for fuck’s sake. Has Ilse done something to him, something he didn’t notice? Was it the cage? It seems unlikely: his dick is still trying to get up at the most inappropriate times when caged, why would it act up when free?

What is even more devastating, is how Ilse would come to the bathroom door and ask Aidan from the other side after thirty minutes are up: “Have you done it, Aidan?” Aidan has a hard time coming to terms with how much he craves to hear her voice in these moments; he only hopes Ilse doesn’t hate this oddity of his.

 

He’s tried to lie to her about having had an orgasm, once. He opened the door to the bathroom, told Ilse that he was done, and she didn’t believe him. That was his fourth “bathroom break”, which means,  his third month here. Such “breaks” happened every two weeks first; then, on his fourth month, Ilse decided once a month was enough and Aidan had to adapt to taking his “bathroom breaks” less frequently.

Aidan didn’t know Ilse that well at the time and thus didn’t expect to be called out on his lie. He didn’t think she cared much, in the first place. Reading owners can be tricky.

Aidan anticipated a severe penalty for his transgression. But no such thing happened; Ilse confirmed once again that she won’t use conventional punishments with him. She didn’t shout, didn’t slap him or leave him hungry for the evening.

At the time, Aidan couldn’t have predicted her reaction. As it happened, Ilse was deeply surprised by the untruthful answer. She couldn’t understand why Aidan would lie about that. In the end, after all his clumsy explanations and apologies, she just looked so lost because of his lack of trust in her that Aidan felt a desperate need to never disappoint her like that again.

 

Aidan can remember it all as clear as if it were yesterday. It’s a good thing he’s managed to perform his duty without a hitch this time and that right now Ilse is distracted with something - Aidan wants to walk down memory lane once more.

He thinks heroines from Ilse’s book would call him sentimental.

But, actually, what’s so bad about it? Nobody is going to know anyway.

And Aidan makes himself comfortable at Ilse’s feet and starts reminiscing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, surprise? Some kind of a cliffhanger?  
> I missed that feeling after finishing "Numb"! Mmm, leaving my readers guessing)))
> 
> Please, tell me what you think!
> 
> Also, I made Ilse's house in Sims 3 so everyone can imagine her mansion well.  
> It was a big, time-consuming project and I am so proud of my results. Enjoy.  
> The whole house:  
> 
> 
> The first floor:  
> 
> 
> The second floor (Ilse's private rooms indicated):  
> 


	3. 1 year before the Freedom Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aidan recalls an important moment from his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey!
> 
> Nice to see you here again! This chapter is porny and almost fluffy! I like it!
> 
> Please, enjoy!

“But why would you lie to me?” - Ilse asks in complete bewilderment. - “Do you not want  _ that _ to happen? I can give you forty minutes if you need more time. Your… parts looked angry and I am sure it is better for your health...”

She rambles and rambles, and she is so serious about that Aidan sincerely wants to fall to his knees and beg her for forgiveness. It’d be the first time in his life when this action would’ve come naturally to him and meant something. Yes, Ilse’s attempts at taking care of Aidan are fucked-up from all sides and often ill-placed, but she naively believes that this ritual is for Aidan’s good. She genuinely wants him to not be in too much pain because of his biological needs (or, rather, to not suffer irreparable damage because of the predicament she’s inflicted on him). Even if she strives to retain complete control of him in any and all situations, she doesn’t want the price for Aidan to be too high.

Her actions and words defy logic - she is an owner, after all. But after her tirade, Aidan realises that she means what she is saying: she wouldn’t get angry because he didn’t come and thus didn’t fulfil her order. Her anger is not directed at his inability to reach an orgasm in such circumstances. If Aidan openly told her that he needs some sex toy or a whole hour more, alone, she’d indulge him. 

Because the time Aidan requires to finish isn’t as critical as Aidan’s honesty and faithfulness.

 

And here comes the other thing one should avoid when trying to stay in Ilse’s good graces (along with not making her feel like she’s in the wrong): lying.

 

Ilse hates lies.

 

Well, everyone does when it concerns them, but for Ilse, it is a particularly sore spot. More specifically, Ilse hates it when people allow themselves to think they are clever because of tricking her after she decided to trust them when people use her kind nature to play her. To put it mildly, it hurts her feelings. And when Ilse’s feelings get hurt, she takes revenge.

 

Aidan doesn’t ever want to be on the receiving end of Ilse’s rancour. He knows how ruthless she is when she wants to be, and he doesn’t want to taste it in any combination other than his evening whippings. Thank you very much, his whippings are more than enough.

 

In the end, Aidan does fall on his knees and beg for forgiveness. Sincerely, since he does feel sorry.

Ilse is trying to make fulfilling her wishes as harmless as possible. Her will comes before everything in Aidan’s life, but it doesn’t mean that she doesn’t give a damn about his well-being. Aidan has to admit: Ilse is trying to be good in some ways. She doesn’t do anything to him that she hasn’t announced and explained. She has decided not to subject him to punishments in the very beginning, and she doesn’t. Her little quirks make Ilse’s behaviour more predictable. And predictable means relatively safe.

When Ilse crouches in front of his prostrated form and touches his cheek gingerly, lifting his face up, she smiles at him happily, and it melts his heart. Aidan allows himself to believe that, when they are alone, Ilse doesn’t tell him anything she doesn’t mean or anything untrue. That Ilse may be untrue with everyone around her, but she would never intentionally lie to Aidan. He considers it his next big  revelation .

 

Aidan swears to himself: he will never lie to Ilse again.

 

After his apology is accepted, Aidan asks Ilse to talk to him while he’s trying to come.  He doesn’t even stumble on his words when asking for such an embarrassing thing. Ilse agrees easily, and Aidan locks himself inside the bathroom again.

Ilse stays just outside the door. Aidan puts his hand on his cock and waits. He tries to relax and get into a special mood, but he is tense and wounded-up, and Ilse stays silent. Does he have to initiate the talk? Would it be appropriate? To his relief, he can hear Ilse clearing her throat after a minute. Aidan holds his breath until finally she starts talking:

“You didn’t have any problems with it the previous times. Does the cage hurt you?” - there’s genuine worry laced into her question. - “Is it too small? Do you use the baby oil as I’ve told you? I know you keep it clean so there must be no infection...”

Aidan slowly strokes his cock from base to tip. Ilse continues her one-sided conversation, and Aidan’s hand on his member never stops. Her voice does something to him. She sounds troubled, she sounds like she  _ is worried  _ about him. Her lilting cadence soothes Aidan, gives him the sense of safety that lacked before.

Aidan knows she is seeing him as a pet. A ridiculously expensive and hard-to-train pet. And yet, when she continues talking, Aidan is able to fool himself into believing that she cares about him as a person. Just for now, just for these short moments, he would allow himself to think that. Ilse agreed to gift Aidan with this, so it must be OK to indulge himself: to let himself feel, just for a little while.

It will be over so soon that Aidan better cherishes it while he has it.

Aidan thinks about Ilse. How cruel her hands are, and how pretty, despite the cuticles bitten bloody. How she’s been touching him almost everywhere, except for between his legs, for two months now.

Here his mind comes to a stop, the same as his hand on his member. He knows she wouldn’t ever finger him or stroke his dick; no reason to put her hands on his “ugly parts”.

But what if she would? Aidan thinks that he can try to imagine this; just this once. What would she do? How would Ilse treat him? Aidan imagines that she would be careful with his member, reverent even. Manly parts are not meant for pain, she would tell Aidan. She would tie him to a chair, or maybe, to a hook in a wall with his arms stretched above his head; immobilise him, make him even more vulnerable. Ilse wouldn’t use a blindfold, she’d let him see. She would let Aidan watch how his defenceless flesh would disappear inside her small fist; how it would twitch in her hands, thick and flushed and heavy. She’d smile knowingly, indicating that she can guess the reason for Aidan’s inner turmoil - how he can barely breathe recalling exactly how much pain these hands are able to bring, how he won’t be able to calm down until she lets his cock go - what if she wants to hurt him the next second, despite her sweet words? Aidan is sure that he couldn’t trust her to be merciful to him, too afraid of how much worse the pain on his cock might be. But Ilse would enjoy playing with his fear, not allowing herself to succumb to cruelty. Instead of torturing Aidan, she would just milk him, quickly and efficiently. Because it’s only a maintenance session her favourite tool needs, really: her actions are not aimed at bringing Aidan pleasure. What she does here, is taking care of what’s hers, pure and simple...

Another lilting phrase of Ilse’s voice filters through the fog in Aidan’s head, and Aidan can barely stop a deep moan that is threatening to fall from his lips. If he makes a vulgar sound, the real Ilse behind the door may feel disgusted and leave. She could stop talking and leave… No, he doesn’t want that. He’ll behave. He’ll please her, this time.

“Are you even doing it right?” - Ilse is asking him. - “Handling your… thing, I mean?”

His Mistress’ sincere doubt in his abilities makes Aidan’s heart swell with a weird sort of affection. Ilse herself can’t know how to do it right in any case, can she? And still pretends to be the expert? With all her hatred towards men’s dicks… Has she ever held one in her hand, ever? Isn’t all her experience with genitals borrowed from biology books? Aidan keeps himself in check and doesn’t giggle. It’s a genuine question, and he will treat it as such, answering politely and to the point.

“Yes, Mistress, I am. It always went well before.”

She hums in contemplation, then continues, sounding disturbed:

“I can’t imagine having this ill-looking thing hanging from my body. I think I’d never touch it if I was a man. That’s so illogical to have something like that dangling out in the open.”

Aidan asks his question before he thinks it over:

“Why do you keep me naked at all times, then? Why not hide my… ugly parts from view completely?”

There is silence, and Aidan is scared that he managed to earn himself his first punishment with his dumb question, but then Ilse says, surprisingly bold:

“Because I like how they look, caged in steel. I mean, they are still ugly, but they are safely locked away. That’s how it should be. The look of your locked penis makes me feel better about the world.”

Aidan whimpers. Ilse’s little speech makes his fantasy run wild (in the opposite direction from before), and his dick strains painfully against his hand.

Does it mean she would’ve never let him out of the cage if she could? If she cared about his health less?

That thought is scary, but he feels so much closer to orgasming just from the mental image of himself, always caged, with his balls hurting all the time - maybe, even turning blue, as in nasty jokes, and everyone in the house seeing that, knowing that Aidan’s Mistress is so strict with him, that she makes him suffer every day without having to lift a finger, just by making him wear that evil little device, and, most importantly, that Aidan humbly accepts it. He can feel his cheeks and chest flush in embarrassment.

Aidan doesn’t want this fantasy to come true, ever (hell, he doesn’t want to wear a cock cage at all!), but the very idea is doing something to him.

Ilse can’t lock all other men up, wouldn’t even lock her other male slaves up, but she did that to Aidan. She’s chosen him as a single bearer of her wish, a single sufferer for her hatred.

Aidan barely recognizes his own voice when he utters:

“I’m close, Mistress.”

He sounds weak and helpless.

He feels that way, too.

He is exactly like that: weak and helpless, and he requires help.

Aidan wants to return to his usual state - to become a sexless, pretty being who can take the pain so well and who doesn’t feel so many things at once yet again. He wants Ilse to get him back under control, the way she likes it. He wants to stop feeling so shamefully aroused by the thought of her locking him up permanently. He wants to finally  _ come _ , for goddess’ sake!

“Please, Mistress,” - manages Aidan in a tiny, breathy whisper after Ilse stays silent on the other side of the door a couple of seconds too long.

“What do you need, Aidan?” - she inquires encouragingly.

“Please, may I..?” - and he freezes mid-sentence, unable to say it out loud. The shame is so strong; Aidan has to squeeze his eyes shut to keep it together.

“Do you need… my word to…?” - comes Ilse’s disbelieving murmur. She guessed right, thinks Aidan, relieved.

“Yes, Mistress, please!” - now he sounds outright desperate.

“OK. Do it, Aidan, - Ilse’s voice gains confidence as she speaks. - “You need to reach completion, and then we will lock you back up.”

With Ilse’s explicit permission, Aidan comes. It feels good, if not as good as fantasy-Ilse would’ve made him feel. More than anything, it feels like one big, precious relief. Just what Aidan needed.

When the aftermath of pleasure rolls off of his mind, Aidan starts to recall his actions of the last hour and immediately wants to crawl under a rock, devastated. He stares at his fingers, coated in his seed, and can’t wrap his brain around it. Did he just come after Ilse’s order? Did he just come  _ only thanks to Ilse’s order _ ? This can’t be true. Does she hold that much power over him from now on? Horrifying. 

From behind the door, Ilse tells him to make himself presentable and come find her.

Aidan cleans himself up thoroughly, puts the metal device back on and comes out into the bedroom. Luckily, it’s empty. Aidan needs one more moment to himself. His mind is pulled between two opposites; he wants to bask in the afterglow of his long-awaited orgasm and, at the same time, to wallow in his shame. Aidan takes a few deep breaths to clear his head - Ilse was so nice to him, she doesn’t deserve to be kept waiting. 

Aidan  finds his Mistress in the living room. Ilse is sitting in her usual chair and crocheting. She does that when she is nervous. Aidan inches closer and kneels in front of her.

“Do I have to talk to you during that process every time from now on?” - she asks in a falsely-annoyed tone. She is embarrassed and confused. Just as Aidan, if not more.

“Only if I can’t manage it in the thirty minutes you give me, Mistress. If you please…” - Aidan found himself saying, his tone akin to pleading.

“I will think of it. Now, go to the anteroom and read from your book until I call for you.”

 

So Aidan does just that. He is more than grateful for the distraction. This time, Ilse gave him a book about a poor girl who worked as a nanny for an aristocrat. He was ugly and he didn’t tell her that his crazy wife was not dead, but the girl didn’t lose her interest in him even after he got blind. Aidan could relate, actually; the girl depended on her employer and her feelings about him were quite ambiguous.

 

When Ilse calls him back, he expects her to want to hurt him, but he is wrong - she only tells him to get ready for dinner. Between his orgasm and his nerves, Aidan totally forgot it was time to eat.

Getting ready, in Aidan’s case, means getting a special pillow for his chair from “his” chest of drawers in the anteroom. Since Aidan is naked at all times at home and Ilse doesn’t want his “special parts” to touch the chair’s upholstery, the accessory is critical. Aidan doesn’t know why Ilse won’t spare him the effort and just let him keep the pillow in a storeroom across the kitchen. Maybe, she just likes to invent different mortifying routines for Aidan.

It’s irrelevant.

Aidan is here for many things, but stating his opinion is not one of them.

 

In two minutes, Aidan is following Ilse down the stairs, clutching the pillow in front of his crotch. The weight of the cage feels different after he spent a little time without it. The physical relief he’s experienced so recently adds to the feeling of foreignness. To Aidan, his dick looks extra pathetic, hanging there limply behind the steel bars. The intense release of emotions he just experienced washed off his usual mask of tameness and docility - Aidan feels defenceless and vulnerable. It’s scary.

Aidan doesn’t know why she won’t make him eat in a separate room or off the floor - it would be more fitting his position in the house; it is a constant source of brooding thoughts. Maybe, it is just her desire to keep him close at all times, maybe, anything else. Anyway, hand-feeding Aidan is out of the question - she hates bodily fluids coming in contact with her unnecessarily. Same with eating from the floor - she might feel disgusted by the thought of him touching the non-sterile surface with his body (her room is a different thing - standards for cleanliness there are quite high).

He would so much like to hide under the tablecloth, even if it meant going to bed hungry. A boy can dream - as usual, he is seated beside his Mistress at the head of the table, visible for every judging eye. Unfortunately, being elevated to the same level as people gathered around the table robs Aidan of his usual ways out. He can’t just retreat into his mind and trust Ilse to guide him as she does while he sits at her feet. At the same time, he can’t participate in the conversation the others lead. It seems harder, staying excluded from society when Aidan is right there.

The dining room is big and spacious, decorated in hues of white, yellow and green. As everywhere else in the house, there are a lot of flowers, artfully arranged around the walls. Aidan is already able to name some of them. If he can think of a good question about one of the plants, he could ask Ilse later. She would be happy to see his interest, and Aidan (will receive a personal lecture) will earn points in her eyes; win-win. But, no matter how hard Aidan tries, no questions come to mind, not even the simplest ones.

Dinner is the only time Aidan gets to sit on furniture in everyone’s presence. Yet, on a regular day, he doesn’t think much of it at all. Also, other people’s presence in the dining room doesn’t bother him, usually. What would they care? His nudity is something mundane for the house inhabitants. Everyone must be used to seeing his naked form at Ilse’s side at all times by now. He can’t explain to himself why everything feels so off.

Is there anything he can do to distract himself now? Let’s think. Whatever Ilse’s mood, Aidan can usually concentrate all his attention on appreciating the nice food and the fine cutlery. Aidan’s thoughts turn to an unexpected direction. He looks at the decorations and thinks that he likes this kind of stuff. It is one of the reasons why Aidan enjoys staying in Ilse’s wing: the thoughtful way in which Ilse filled her rooms with all kind of things makes her private space feel warm and meaningful. The same could be said about the whole house, actually, but only her wing has this distinct touch of Ilse’s personality. Aidan tries to remember what his favourite painting from Ilse’s living room is or what kind of flowers she keeps close to the windows of her bedroom, but his memory refuses to cooperate. He’s too keyed up for that.

Aidan can’t shake off the feeling that everyone is watching him. It’s disconcerting. At least, Aidan is not expected to serve Ilse at the table; he’d fuck up royally this time.

Everything is different today.

His head spins and his emotions go highwire.

Despite himself, Aidan keeps remembering his time in the bathroom with Ilse right outside it, and he just can’t anymore. He puts his knife and fork down, carefully, as to not attract Ilse’s attention, and grabs his glass of water with both hands. He stills himself and lets the memories flood him; he’d be unable to stop the flood if he tried.

They were so close, recalls Aidan, the wood of the door notwithstanding, and Ilse was talking to him just right, precisely as he begged her to.

While they were at it, Aidan constructed a whole porn story featuring Ilse in his mind.

He pleaded her to let him come.

Moreover, he couldn’t finish without her word.

Totally the most embarrassing moment with Ilse so far.

At every new wave of the memories, Aidan feels how the residual humiliation starts burning inside him, how his poor cock throbs in its prison in tact with his heartbeat. He can only pray that no one but Ilse will notice his situation (he can’t lie to himself that  _ she _ won’t). Aidan tries to calm himself down - he doesn’t need any complications right now. He is in enough trouble already - his dick hurts, again, trying to rise up, his thoughts are in disarray, his appetite is completely gone, and he can’t predict Ilse’s reaction at his state of inner chaos.

Aidan is not too far gone to realise one thing though - despite everything, it was one of the nicest moments in his life here, at this place, as well. 

Once, Aidan catches Ilse’s throwing worried glances at his plate. When she decides not to pry in public, though, Aidan feels like falling to his knees and thanking her aloud.

Strangely, but even this dinner has its end. 

After it, Ilse takes him for a walk. They return to her wing and get dressed; it’s spring and the air is still chilly. As always lately, Aidan feels odd covered in clothing. Ilse tells him to wander around in her garden for a bit and then come find her. That’s a dangerous order for someone as curious as Aidan: there is so much to see and too easy to get distracted. There are, for example, an old well under the thick stone wall, confined into a stone channel, or a scary-looking gravestone in the north-eastern corner of the property. Ilse told him already that when her father bought this house for her, the grave was already there, and she didn’t feel like disturbing it. Aidan thinks it was a great decision - the gravestone adds a touch of secrecy to this part of the garden.

It’s not proper of him, but it’s Ilse who finds him in the end - Aidan is still standing by that old grave, lost in thought. Such memorials have been made to… right, to preserve the memory of someone’s ancestors. He often thinks about his parents when he stands here.  What has happened to them? Where are they now? As far as Aidan knows, he’s been five when the owners took him from his mother and father and sent him to a boarding school for slave kids. As expected, his memories of them are blurry: he remembers that his father was fair-haired, like him, and that his mother was quite plump. They were both always happy to see him. They must have loved him. He is glad he has retained some images in his head. On the opposite, Aidan doesn’t remember his first two years at the boarding school - nothing at all. Maybe, he missed his parents something fierce and thus didn’t pay attention.

Ilse throws a weird look his way but, again, doesn’t pry. She just calls him home - her fingers are freezing, she says. This time, though, Aidan wishes she did ask him. Then, he could have shared the memories with her.

Aidan follows Ilse back home through the back door, half-listening to her complaints about the cold and tries to comprehend why he wants to talk to his owner about his family. The more he thinks about it, the less logical it seems. Maybe, it’s just his loneliness?

Or, maybe, it’s just the day’s exhaustion takes its toll on him.

Aidan wonders whether Ilse will let him go to sleep without a spanking today. His body would be thankful for the absence of pain, yet his mind will feel restless and disoriented without some sort of grounding after the day’s turmoil. It’s a good thing that this is not his choice to make. Still, Aidan can’t accept his inability to influence his fate today: he manages to worry himself sick before the evening comes.

Then, finally, Ilse puts her slave out of his misery. 

Ilse has her ways to make Aidan forget his distrust and lose all his defences. She makes Aidan brace his arms on the wall and glides her palms up and down his back for several long minutes until Aidan relaxes despite himself. When Aidan surrenders fully, she flogs him, so nice and slow that he feels his head go pleasantly numb while his back tingles with barely there shocks of pain. It is like floating.

Ilse takes him to bed afterwards. That is nothing out of the ordinary, but, this time, to Aidan it feels like it means something.

Half-asleep, half-dazed, Aidan murmurs when she starts to stroke his hair:

“Mistress…”

“Yes, Aidan?”

“I think I liked being flogged today.”

“You almost always do, my pretty boy,” - teases Ilse gently, threading her slim fingers through his curls. It’s an amazing, relaxing sensation, and Aidan fights hard to not fall asleep right away.

The more willful part of Aidan wants to protest, wants to contradict Ilse - for goddess’ sake, he can’t possibly enjoy his punishments. It’s against nature! But then, she isn’t mistaken about this exact implement: Aidan likes it when Ilse uses the flogger on him. She never rushes it, never pushes his limits when she does. It feels… safe.

He likes sleeping beside his Mistress and having her pet his hair even more. It makes him feel cherished.

Unfortunately, good nights (read: spent not on his futon, alone, but in his Mistress’ bed), often lead to worse nightmares. This night is no exception; Ilse has to reassure him that no one is going to violate him, that he’s safe with her. Aidan cries into her shoulder until his head hurts and his eyes are sore.

When they finally settle once again, Aidan starts wondering why the same thing keeps repeating itself when he is in Ilse’s bed. It’s as if Aidan’s mind gets enough peace and quiet there to try to meet his worst memories. Aidan is happy that his reaction at his bad dreams is to stop moving entirely, not to jump up in terror and scream. Anyway, it doesn’t explain Ilse’s willingness to put up with his nervous ticks. Aidan goes so unnaturally still when a nightmare hits that Ilse almost always wakes up. She would sit up in the bed, put a hand on Aidan’s shoulder and order him to breathe; when Aidan can’t stop hyperventilating, she would order him to follow her own breathing pattern and guide him through his panic until Aidan calms down enough to apologize for interrupting her sleep and thank her for her kindness.

When he had thanked her for the first time, after the first panic attack she’d witnessed, about a month ago, Ilse stilled next to him for a second or two, but before Aidan has been able to ask her what’s wrong, she was already guiding his head back to the pillow. Then, she stood up and left the bed. Aidan felt a little clueless. She’s clearly indicated that he should stay in place, but where did she go? Why did she leave? Why didn’t she send after someone?  _ Why didn’t she tell Aidan to fetch whatever it was that she needed? _

Ilse was absent for some time while Aidan kept his position obediently, brimming with nerves. And then she returned. Aidan listened to her opening and closing doors to the anteroom, then to the living room, then to the library until she was standing in the bedrooms door frame holding a glass of water in her hand.

Aidan’s face furrowed in concentration. She just needed to make a phone call to get water delivered...

Then, it turned out, the water was  _ for him _ , and Aidan couldn’t tell up from down anymore.

She went downstairs to the kitchen in the middle of the night because she couldn’t find any water in her rooms quick enough and she wanted to help her slave calm down. Now that Aidan thought of it, Ilse never made her servants run around her in circles, catering to her every whim. She didn’t want to wake anyone up with a simple errand. 

It’s was a simple gesture, but to Aidan, it felt immensely important. No one has done something like that for Aidan since he can remember himself clearly. Ilse’s willingness to overcome trivial inconveniences for him became the biggest  revelation  of the ones he had during their first months together.

 

 

 

In the present, Aidan drifts to sleep right there, on the carpet beneath Ilse’s feet, thinking that this might have been the exact moment when he’s chosen not to belong to Ilse just on paper, but to allow her to own all of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, what are your thoughts on this?  
> Who is a pervert here, hmm? (stop pointing your fingers at me!!!!)
> 
> Also, bonus:
> 
> Ilse's room  
> 
> 
> and again, her room (the girl is my Sim Ryoko, don't confuse with the actual Ilse!)  
> 


	4. 2 months before the Freedom Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aidan contemplates his life and, among other things, compares his previous owner to Ilse.  
> We also hear the observations he made after watching Ilse closely for a year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dears!
> 
> Another portion of this triggering story! A bigger one, than before! This is mostly talking but there are also panic attacks and spanking.  
> You'll learn more about Ilse's sins in this chapter. That will be it - llse's sins and Aidan's attempts to find excuses for her!
> 
> Enjoy your time in my not-so-nice world!

 

It isn’t always easy to accept Ilse the way she is. But Aidan has somehow managed to up until now, which is very fortunate - there is no alternative for him, after all.

He knows that he is lucky to be where he is now. He also knows that he should concentrate his attention on Ilse, and no one else. And yet… When he has time to think, Aidan’s thoughts often stray to his past life. Then, he always starts comparing his two owners in his head. The difference between them is obvious, even glaring, and, actually, Aidan thinks that each of them would be offended if they heard about anyone comparing them to the other, - but whatever the case, he can’t help himself.

Something in Aidan longs for understanding. Characters from Ilse’s books travel continents to learn something about themselves. Aidan’s life is linear and simple by contrast - he doesn’t have to go to such lengths, and, whether he wants it or not, wouldn’t be able to. Contemplating his life experiences is totally in his power, though, and enough, for now.

So Aidan thinks back to the time he spent at the farm and lets his brain sort through his memories.

  
  


First of all, Aidan’s first owner didn’t even know his name, of that Aidan is sure. He saw Aidan in passing,  maybe, once or twice in the course of the two years that Aidan spent at his farm. Whom Aidan replied to was his overseer; he was the one who had full control of Aidan’s life. On the opposite, here, with Ilse, Aidan feels like he is her one and only slave. Some of the maids here are not free either, and the service hands, too, but it doesn’t matter: Ilse only ever pays attention to him.

  
  


Then, their view on corporate discipline. Actually, with Ilse, it is not exactly discipline: she never uses pain as a punishment; it’s more of a way to communicate her feelings to Aidan or simply entertainment. Can he just call it spankings of different kinds, then? Seems like it’s the best variant.

So, what makes the difference, then? Maybe, it’s how they treat Aidan and his body? His first thought is that Ilse takes from him only as much as he can give. Aidan dismissed this idea quickly. Ilse tortured him so intensely several times that Aidan wanted to crawl out of his skin and evaporate from pain and exhaustion. Yet, it was in his power to take it, and he did take it, but if Ilse stopped just a little bit earlier... Well, Aidan would’ve felt less like a cornered animal which would’ve been welcome. It was never as bad as it has been on the farm, though.

  
  


Maybe, the difference is in how much calmer she is? Like, more predictable? There is (at least, some) logic in her reactions. Like, when his precious Ilse is furious with someone, Aidan has to brace himself, getting ready to get hurt in whatever way she may impulsively choose to blow off steam using Aidan’s body (her creativity still keeps catching Aidan by surprise, though).

No. It’s a bad sort of predictability and a bad example. Aidan strains his brain harder.

  
  


Here it is! At the farm, Aidan got punished for his own actions. In Ilse’s house, when she spanks him, he gets to be the bearer of Ilse’s wrath on anything or anyone, but not himself. It’s quite simple when he puts it like that. 

Aidan mulls it over in his head some more and can’t decide which is easier to come to terms with. Both are unfair to him; at the farm, they'd whip him for not fulfilling impossible demands or for being unwilling to give up his dignity and serve his ass to the overseer on a silver platter; in Ilse’s care, he doesn’t even need to throw a wayward glance or say an inappropriate word to get the cruellest birching of his life - his actions are irrelevant here, only Ilse’s wishes matter.

But he has mentally agreed to this treatment from Ilse, reminds Aidan himself. He accepted it. It’s as if he’s allowed her all these things himself. He is just nitpicking when he tries to criticize Ilse, reasons Aidan with himself. Ilse is much better than his previous owner, it’s evident and doesn’t need any proofs. In any case, it will do him no good to find flaws in the woman who has the reins over his well-being. Aidan would have to spend hours recounting all the advantages he has here in comparison to there. And the absolute best thing on the list would be Ilse’s absolute lack of interest in fucking Aidan, of course.

 

Aidan is not a joke to her; not a stubborn piece of meat which needs to learn its place. Not an equal, goddess forbid, but still a person. Even if she has him mute and motionless half of the time; even if she treats him like a man-sized doll or her favourite pet. She shows him off when necessary and does it with pride, but it’s not the main purpose of his service.

The thing is, to have a pretty doll or an obedient pet is not her endgame. Ilse makes it clear that she wants to watch  _ Aidan _ struggle with these roles, not to own a certain plaything or an accessory. She is interested in how  _ Aidan _ (and not a random slave boy) overcomes the obstacles she throws at him.

Her approach to handling Aidan is very personal, and Aidan finds it oddly flattering.

 

This train of thought makes Aidan recall how Ilse was showing him what she wants him to become for her; slowly, bit by bit, letting him grow into his new image. She didn’t rush his transition from a farm boy to a refined body slave. Aidan didn’t think about it then, but now he can look back and see that she was doing everything at Aidan’s pace. It was still a hard period for him - they did have a “bumpy” start, that’ for sure.

 

Aidan can’t help but remember how horrified he initially was when she took him home.

At that time, he expected only the worst to happen to him. To add insult to injury, on the first evening in the house, Ilse informed him that she will hurt him a lot. She said that Aidan needs to get ready to be spanked almost every day just because Ilse will want to do that to him. In Aidan’s memory, he was murmuring “Yes, Mistress” and “As you wish, Mistress”, so numb from fear that he was unable to see anything around himself when she was leading him to her chambers.

He couldn’t sleep lying on his new futon that first night at Ilse’s house. The anteroom he now considers his safe place felt claustrophobic, stifling. Aidan was scared out of his mind. After an hour or so of failed attempts to fall asleep, he just curled in on himself and tried to shield his mind from the images of all the whippings he’s suffered on the farm. He failed at that, too.

The next day, after Ilse fitted the cage on Aidan’s cock for the first time, she told him to kneel for her in the centre of her living room. She announced that she wanted to spank him then and took her time fiddling with some things on the shelves. Meanwhile, Aidan froze in place. When Ilse ordered him to stand up and lean over a chair, he literally couldn’t move. The fear was so thick Aidan can barely remember any details from that day, only that Ilse had to pry his fingers from his own thighs to make him react at her even a little. Ilse was clearly annoyed, or so he thought, but Aidan’s mouth refused to make words to beg her for forgiveness.

Aidan expected to be dragged to some gloomy basement by her servants where they would teach him good manners. He resolved to endure it stoically; he was glad the scary thing will finally happen to him at this new household and the wait would be over. But nobody came for him. Instead, he had to listen to Ilse rant about her disappointment. Back on the farm, Aidan didn’t seem to be afraid of the whip, she said, and now he appeared to be horrified of a simple spanking. How could it even be? 

Aidan expected Ilse to send him off to be punished after dinner - but she didn’t. Bedtime came, and still, no one came to take him to a whipping post. Baffled, Aidan lied down to sleep on his second futon beside her bed.

Confusingly, the gloomy basement didn’t happen at all; neither in the morning the next day, nor ever.

Instead, Ilse gave Aidan time and space to get to know the new environment better. 

 

She ordered Aidan to get in the position for a spanking again five days later. By that time, Aidan was used to her voice and her orders. He didn’t panic, but he was deeply scared on the inside. He bent over the chair for her with no fuss, feeling wooden, and made the muscles in his back and buttocks unclench, as he was taught to back at school, by sheer force of will. She noticed his efforts and praised him for trying hard for her. Aidan didn’t know what to make of her praise. He only knew it was better than his previous overseer’s grunting and cursing.

She used light paddles on him that time; a merciful choice. In Aidan’s opinion, his first spanking by Ilse’s hand barely hurt at all. He stayed put and didn’t flinch away from the blows, earning himself more compliments after each one. 

Despite Ilse going easy on him, Aidan doesn’t remember that session all too clearly: nervousness has done its work. That whole first week was so nerve-wracking. Aidan shakes his head to get rid of the persistent images. He got over it. Ilse led him through it.

It’s fine now.

 

Aidan smiles when he recalls his second spanking here. Ilse spent two hours testing her canes and crops on Aidan’s butt, trying to decipher how many strikes she needs to reach a certain hue of red. Aidan was tense as a string, expecting her evilness to come out fully any moment. He didn’t know that Ilse’s evilness is a slow, well-paced thing.

Ilse kept murmuring: “Just relax, dear. I will hurt you so carefully, you don’t even have to worry...” until Aidan, indeed, relaxed and endured the next portions of pain without fear.

She tamed him.

  
  


It seems so funny how Aidan expected Ilse to turn out to be the same type as his overseer from the farm was and how wrong his preconception turned out to be.

 

Especially now when he knows that she’s her very own kind of monster.

A monster nonetheless.

 

Ilse enjoys seeing Aidan accept all the pain she is inclined to provide. She marvels at his bruises, relishes in his whimpers and pained grunts. She loves Aidan surrendering to her will. She loves Aidan in suffering. She loves Aidan broken and in tears.

But she also loves to pick him up piece by piece after she breaks him. She lets him heal before the start of the next big game. She loves to tease him softly and use his stomach as a cushion when she reads. She loves choosing books for him and listening to his thoughts on whatever he’s reading at the moment. She lets him hold onto her hand when he has a bad nightmare.

 

Oh! If Aidan decided to recall all the bonuses his life under Ilse’s wing has brought him, he can’t allow himself to forget about Mr Mouse because he is  _ something _ .

Aidan can’t even fathom how and why Ilse decided to order him to play with the house dog every day; were his longing gazes during their walks in the garden too obvious? Aidan feels a little stupid chasing the dog through the bushes (especially in summer when he is naked save for the cage on his cock and the sandals on his feet), but if Ilse doesn’t care, no one else in the house is allowed to. Aidan enjoys his time with the dog immensely; it’s all that matters. Aidan doesn’t even know his real name - the dog is just there when Aidan exits the house to play with him. When Aidan whispers his secrets into his fluffy ear, he calls the giant dog Mr Mouse - because of the fur colour. He thinks that Ilse would appreciate his simple irony.

He won’t ever know for sure.

 

Aidan can clearly see one thing: Ilse is not an ordinary owner.

She made Aidan’s life better, not worse.

 

She brought so many things in Aidan’s life he hasn’t known before her.

 

She never used a whip on him.

 

She never added sex into the equation.

 

(Aidan will never admit that deep down he is curious as to how Ilse would’ve decided to torture his sensitive parts and how excruciating that might be. He is sure it’s in Ilse’s power to make him want it and ask her for it, even beg her for it. He’s lucky she can’t read thoughts.)

 

Ilse is a monster Aidan adapted well to. A monster he grew to trust not to bite his head off.

 

Once, when he was contemplating his current circumstances, Aidan realised with a start that the morbid feeling of irrevocably losing the time of his life that followed him through the last years of the slave kids’ school and the time of his farm work has disappeared.

Moments, hours and days spent watching Ilse don’t register as wasted for nothing. Aidan feels like he finally has a place where he fits. It’s a weird and unrealistic feeling, he knows.

Aidan lets himself feel like that anyway. It would be unreasonable of him to forbid himself from feeling good in an attempt to prevent himself from getting hurt at some point later in time. He’ll hurt when the time comes to hurt, not now.

 

Ilse made Aidan’s life revolve around her in more ways than he could’ve expected. It is true, there are many benefits to Aidan’s current status, but the list of the new restrictions is  _ huge _ .

The worst of all is not even the cock cage. Much worse is the fact that  Aidan almost never talks to anyone other than his Mistress.  If there’s a necessity of some kind or he has a question, then, and only then, he is allowed to address his Mistress (and only her). At other times, he stays mute waiting for her to talk to him. If someone tries to talks to Aidan, Ilse talks in his stead. Ilse doesn’t even let him meet other members of her staff or her other slaves when it’s not for purposes of serving her or relaying her orders. And, of course, Aidan only meets other owners when Ilse is present. 

In short, no one is allowed to get close to Aidan except for Ilse.

 

Aidan likes to think that he knows more about his Mistress than anyone else, not unlike some loyal servant in the old books he reads on Ilse’s insistence. He isn’t privy to the events of her past, that’s right, but people exist in the present, don’t they? And in the present, no one could excel him in his studies of Ilse’s character.

 

She doesn’t wear her masks around him; she lets him witness her bad moods and moments of weakness, allows him to share her joy of finding a perfect book or raising a pretty eggplant. Aidan is there when her father tells her she’s a disappointment. Aidan is there when she argues with the board of directors of the toy factory she “owns” and then complains about their attitude. Aidan is there when she has an obligatory Tuesday-call with her mother. Aidan is there when she suffers from period cramps and can’t get up from the bed without great pain.

 

Aidan doesn’t delude himself with thinking that he has learnt everything there is to know about Ilse in these short months. The underwater part of the iceberg that is her real personality must be huge. There must be so much more about her that even the generous amount of sincerity Ilse gifts Aidan with on a daily basis won’t ever cover it up.

 

For one, Ilse’s instincts are too good for a person who’s spent all her life secluded indoors, safe from any dangers, spoiled and cherished. The matter-of-fact way she deals with Aidan’s nightmares (there is always water stashed close to the bed since the first time he had a bad dream while sleeping beside her, these days) is one thing; it indicates that she had to deal with something similar before, but nothing aside from that. No, it’s as if she has acquired a magic sixth feeling or something for when she’s in public and something unpleasant is bound to happen. She always manages to avoid people she doesn’t want to talk to at all at the moment; she usually can tell the person, without looking at them, by the sound of their steps alone (OK, this could be thanks to a good hearing and basic attentiveness, but Ilse never makes mistakes!); she seems to get away from troubling and dangerous situations while people around her don’t always get this lucky. Predictably, always being on high alert when out of her private wing isn’t good for her nerves. Aidan and other slaves have a similar disposition - and, unlike the rich owner Ilse, they have good reasons for that, what with a life spent under the constant threat of something terrible. Aidan suspects that Ilse’s wakefulness might be hiding something bitter, as well.

 

The next suspicious thing is Ilse’s relationship with her own body. Ilse takes care of her hygiene with all seriousness; Aidan would say, compulsively. She showers or bathes every day, twice a day if she goes out, not to mention a thousand other small self-care rituals. Interestingly, Ilse’s bathing products don’t have any smell. Of course, Aidan has to follow the same schedule - often in addition to the showers, he takes daily after he hits the gym. Ilse oversees his washing time herself if she is able to. Every time, Ilse chooses different shampoos, scrubs and lotions for Aidan to use - and they all have different pleasant aromas depending on Ilse’s current mood. Aidan finds her incessant fussing ridiculous - though he has to admit that his hair has never been so soft to the touch before. 

While Aidan is naked in his Mistress’ presence all the time, Aidan never sees her without clothes. It stresses their power imbalance just fine, thank you very much, but Aidan hasn’t even seen Ilse in a tank top or shorts, for example. She dresses and undresses behind a folding screen. She takes her baths alone (Aidan thinks he could be helpful with washing her back or her hair, after some practice but, of course, he doesn’t get a say). To top it all, she sleeps in pyjamas which cover her elbows and knees (!). Aidan who quickly got used to his naked freedom of movement pities her.

Her bathing routines and her shyness wouldn’t seem as strange as they do without her other ticks in the picture. But the way it is, Aidan can’t shake off the feeling that Ilse might feel unclean unless she follows her established protocol. Well, it’s not the worst habit to have, he supposes.

  
  


One more “fun” fact about Aidan’s owner: Ilse hates going outside. Like, “outside her mansion” outside. If asked why, Ilse would bullshit her way through unwelcome questions, never telling the truth. Aidan (and her other slaves and servants) know the real reason for her voluntary reclusion: Ilse truly hates having to communicate with people. It has to be done on her terms, or not at all. Socializing is exhausting, that’s why Ilse chooses to avoid leaving the safety of her lot unless absolutely necessary. Aidan believes that it’s not a big loss: Ilse’s garden may beat some parks -  she doesn’t need to leave her property to enjoy good weather. 

  
  


Ilse doesn’t enjoy staying inside all the time as much as one may think, though. She likes her house and she likes her garden a lot, but she gets bored, too, like any other person. From Ilse’s rare admissions, little sad sighs during their occasional car rides past the city’s botanic garden, and the glances she throws at the country’s map on her library’s wall, marked with possible tourist routes and national parks with rare plants, Aidan made the conclusion that Ilse misses wild nature. Maybe, she misses the freedom of field trips she told him about: observing her favourite flowers in the meadows and valleys, only caring about the weather or the state of equipment. Aidan thinks that Ilse’s inability to roam the wilderness freely upsets her a lot. It’s a shame she can’t be bothered with needy, puny humans who she thinks all want a piece of her.

(Aidan thinks it’s similar with how some free people don’t go out in summer willingly  to avoid scourges of mosquitoes and immediately scolds himself for being disrespectful to Ilse in his thoughts.)

 

When, despite everything, they do go out (and the current record is two times a month), Ilse makes the most of it. She chooses parties and locations meticulously, she finds an outfit she enjoys from all sides, allows herself to spend hours in front of mirrors, looking herself over this way and that. Every time, she also dresses Aidan up like a doll.

Her favourite choice for Aidan is a long skirt and a light blouse. In her wardrobe, in a special part of it, hang multiple different skirts and tops she’s bought specifically for dressing Aidan up. Aidan doesn’t even feel weird in his feminine sets of clothing anymore. They are tailored to be a perfect fit for him and he doesn’t feel silly when he wears them. Ilse does her best to make him live up to her expectations, and if she finds him pretty in skirts - so be it. This knowledge keeps any self-conscious nonsense Aidan’s head may sprout at him at bay. Being made pretty often allows Aidan to sink into a specific place in his mind where all he is aware of is Ilse. It’s similar with the headspace he gets into while being flogged by her, but without a sore backside afterwards. Aidan doesn’t care when anyone catcalls or makes stupid comments about his appearance when he is in his doll-like state; Ilse will handle that for him. Aidan just has to stay attuned to his Mistress and behave.

It’s not a hard task when all he can do is to follow her. When they are out of the house, Aidan is literally kept on a short leash - as per legal regulations, of course. Actually, this fact makes him smile to himself rather than anger him. Aidan had to learn how to walk on a leash already after he’s been bought by Ilse - the new restriction caught them both off guard. It’s been awkward, but they’ve managed. By now, Aidan doesn’t feel anything about being on a leash. He got used to mostly seeing the back of Ilse’s legs and his own feet under the bottom of his skirt when he’s taken on a walk outside. The lack of room for observation doesn’t even make him feel anxious, as before, - if he’s with Ilse, he’s protected.

With Ilse, being tethered feels like a game - as if Aidan and Ilse are two kids playing a puppy and its master, or something like that. And they are both waiting to be discovered and scolded for taking mama’s fancy scarf to pretend it’s a leash any minute. This way, it doesn’t feel real, doesn’t feel like the humiliation it’s supposed to be.

 

Aidan likes sharing this and other experiences with Ilse.

 

Aidan genuinely likes many things about his current life - and, due to his previous encounters with owners, it’s a bad sign for him.

 

He’ll wait and see, Aidan supposes.

Wait and see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehey!
> 
> (Tell me you didn't get bored to death)  
> I hope you feel for Aidan even deeper now! He's such a nice guy. Is he even real?
> 
> The bonuses of today: 
> 
> 1) "Aidan's" anteroom (it's my Sim Ryoko, again, testing the sleeping bag)  
> 
> 
> 2) Ilse's living room  
> 
> 
> 3) The garden up close (the yellow room is the kitchen, next to the dining room in white)  
>   
> 


	5. 3 months before the Freedom Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aidan and Ilse have an incident on the street. When the night comes, Ilse cries in her bedroom while Aidan has to stay in the anteroom, alone, fighting off his old demons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my clever and pretty ones!
> 
> With this chapter, I will have three updates in a row! Mwa-ha-ha!
> 
> OK, back to the topic: this chapter is short. And sad. And Ilse is her usual majestic self.  
> And Aidan is in doubts.
> 
> To save you from spoilers, let's just get to reading!
> 
> Beware: RAPE. Not graphic and mentioned in passing, but still. Reread the tags, if you forgot what they are!

Once in the evening, when they are walking to the car from a shop, Aidan’s leash held loosely in Ilse’s hand, two shady looking gentlemen start trying to harass Ilse.  
The next day, Ilse would tell the housekeeper that she didn’t even notice how the handle of the leash slipped from her grasp when Aidan positioned himself in front of her. Aidan would keep silent, as per his orders, and preen inwardly.  
In the moment - Aidan doesn’t think much at all. He just shields Ilse with his body and glares at the culprits.  
It seems like Aidan’s concentrated gaze alone makes the men nervous, despite his decidedly unmasculine outfit. Aidan thinks that these two men have never been in a fight with a real opponent, and not a weaker person who is easy to assault. Luckily, Aidan’s intervention is enough for Ilse to gather her wits and threaten the men, making them leave. They get to the car without a problem and the driver starts home.  
The adrenaline rush Aidan gets out of this short confrontation is unexpected and welcome. He didn’t feel like this in a long time. Aidan totally knows that he’d fight if it came down to this. He’d rip his fucking skirt off to have a free range of movement and kick those men’s asses… Or, better say, he’d try to. The last time Aidan has fought anyone it ended up with his own ass ripped in shreds in more ways than one (let’s be realistic, he could not have won against the overseer and his lackeys). But, did he really have any chances with these casual assholes? He has been so eager to start a tussle while his sudden optimism was unfounded. Would a fight have been worth it or would they end up in more trouble? What if he’d lose and they’d hurt Ilse... As the last image sinks in, Aidan feels shivers run down his spine.  
Next to him in the car, Ilse doesn’t say a word, causing quite an ominous silence to settle. Aidan, meanwhile, is having a little crisis. He can’t comprehend what he did just now. It is not his role to be her guard. It is not his role to act on his own. But at the moment, Aidan didn’t hesitate - he just leapt to his Mistress’ defence. Why did he do that? Because she is smaller? Maybe, because he considers her helpless? Because he cares this much? Why?  
Later at home (and Ilse still hasn’t said a word to Aidan), she positions him across the bottom part of her bed and uses a birch on the back of his thighs and calves. For once, she ties his ankles which makes Aidan feel helpless in a way he rarely does with Ilse. It’s excruciating.  
During this ordeal, Aidan goes to a strange place in his head. He isn’t scared; he is just in pain and feels very, very owned. Ilse rarely chooses to torment these parts of Aidan’s body; it’s hard to stay still, even with the ropes holding his legs together. Every strike feels like a line of pure agony, and Aidan moans, unashamed, without trying to smother the sounds by burying his mouth in Ilse’s soft duvet - she’d chide him for that. His feet keep lifting up in reaction to the intense pain; Aidan has to put all his willpower into just staying still.  
After the birching is over, Ilse cleans his welted skin and puts an ointment on it, all the while leaving Aidan’s feet bound. She unties him only when it is time to go to sleep, and until then Aidan just lies there, meek and immobilised, slowly coming back to himself after the intense session. Then, Aidan goes to the bathroom, every red welt pulling and aching when he moves. Upon his return, Ilse orders him to lie down on his futon to the left from the bed while she fumbles with her nighttime routine. Afterwards, when she turns the lights off and climbs under her blanket, Aidan has to pretend that he doesn’t notice her staring at him from above. After half an hour of just staring, Ilse tells Aidan to go to sleep in the anteroom. Aidan dutifully puts the futon out of the way and drags himself to an identical futon aka his usual sleeping place. Aidan is sure that he hears sniffling from the bed when he is exiting. As usual, he doesn’t risk posing questions; he doesn’t have the right to ask if Ilse is alright. Even if he really wants to.

Aidan doesn’t sleep well that night.  
He keeps remembering all the times when he tried to fight off the overseer’s advances on the farm which always ended up in him being strapped to a bench and raped while the man kept growling in his ear that it could’ve been much nicer if only Aidan was more compliant. Aidan knew that the overseer got any boy or girl he wanted and that the Owner only scolded him if the work performance of his victims suffered. Which wasn’t the case with Aidan. Hungry, aching, miserable, he would drag himself to his workplace and fulfil his tasks, his stupid, worthless pride be damned. Other slaves would just pretend that nothing has happened when they saw Aidan afterwards, and Aidan didn’t know if it was for better or worse. He didn’t want any questions, he didn’t need anyone’s pity, but to just tell someone that the overseer was a complete dickwad who deserves all the horrors of hell and see understanding in their eyes would’ve been kind of comforting.  
Aidan is still indecisive whether it’s been stupid of him to act the way he did with the overseer (his men could have hurt him much worse than they did) or that it was his only chance to save himself from crumbling down on the inside.  
No, decides Aidan. There’s nothing to think about. His damned need to have some dignity left, just for himself, could have gotten him killed. What if one night Aidan got damaged beyond repair? He shudders just from the very idea of it.  
Aidan is lucky he made it to here and now. This way, tomorrow Ilse will have Aidan to help her put her fears to rest and make him forget everything but her. He wishes she was up to the task of controlling him in this moment, but a boy can’t have everything he desires.  
Aidan lies in the dark, his eyelids heavy and his body - tired. Somewhere behind the walls, he knows, Ilse is crying. Ilse, who would have never even met Aidan if he didn’t survive the farm, the hard work, the whippings and the rapes.  
But Aidan did.  
Aidan did, and so they will see each other tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and many-many days afterwards. Aidan doesn’t let himself think of what comes then, after these blessed days are over.  
Instead, he closes his eyes and imagines running after Mr Mouse in Ilse’s big garden until his lungs burn and his knees give out.  
Then, Aidan sleeps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me, Aidan and Ilse!
> 
> What was the most disturbing part for you personally? Mine would be Ilse ogling Aidan in the dark. I don't know why she does that! Don't ask!
> 
> Your bonuses for today are two pictures of my Sim Ryoko with her Teddy-bears (I'd say knuffels, but no one will appreciate it here) playing with them in Ilse's library!
> 
>   
> 


	6. 7 months before the Freedom Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aidan's life consists of different routines. When those get disrupted, he feels out of his depth. Especially, when other slaves (and punishments) are involved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey!
> 
> The next chapter is here!
> 
> It's quite mild. There's a corporal punishment of a young boy and some panicky/nervous interaction between Ilse and Aidan.
> 
> I wish you a nice time reading!

Despite all the shit he had to experience, Aidan thinks that he is lucky to have lived a part of his life as a boy in a boarding house and then as a farm worker. He knows the alternatives to being a body slave of a rich Mistress. He values his calm and relatively safe life.  
The more time he spends in Ilse’s house, the more proofs of his luckiness he sees.

One recent example: Ilse’s cousin visited for a week, and she had a pet boy of her own with her. That one looked really pretty and fragile, or so Aidan thought. The cousin said she’s bought him from a famous school for slave children where they raise boys and girls from early on and foster submissive traits in them. Their main “business-idea” of the school is that if a slave is raised in a totally submissive mindset, but without violence, then, by the time they become a teenager, such slave will be a perfect recipient for painful punishments - pretty, docile, desperate to please. As much as Aidan could gather from watching the cousin’s pet boy, the idea was working as it was supposed to. The boy’s meek posturing, his devoted gaze, and the absence of any original thought in his blank gaze: there was more of a chihuahua than a growing boy in him. Aidan and he were different like oil and water.  
Appearance wise, they were very unlike, too. Aidan, with his sturdy frame and well-developed muscles, looked like an honest to goddess giant next to the boy (farm work doesn’t make you a porcelain doll, quite the contrary). As per usual, Aidan didn’t have a chance to interact with the other slave (he didn’t feel much regret about that).  
Unfortunately, the pretty little boy turned out to be easily distracted by casual things, like Venus flytrap from Ilse’s giant collection of tropical plants, for example. No concentration at all, frowned Aidan inwardly, watching the boy gawk at if the plant were the world’s greatest wonder. One admonition too many, and the boy earned himself a spanking. It happened yesterday, the last day of the cousin’s visit.

The last fucking day! Aidan was pissed off. Couldn’t the boy wait until they’re back home and be all fidgety there?  
Upon request, Ilse gave her cousin permission to administer punishment in the main living room, on the condition that the boy’s genitals wouldn’t be left in the open view. Turned out, the boy wore a cage, too. This was probably the only thing that pleased Ilse that evening.  
Of course, Ilse stayed to oversee. How could she not?! No one asked Aidan if he wanted to be present, of course; he was to stay at Ilse’s side by default. Aidan didn’t witness any corporal punishments for half a year, and who cared that he was repulsed by the very thought of seeing one again?  
Ilse and Aidan silently watched the boy whimper and weep in his suffering. It was a pitiful scene. Aidan supposed that being spoilt and cherished all your young life and then being sold to a demanding owner would make a person easy to hurt, both mentally and physically. Despite his previous harsh judgement, Aidan felt for the boy. Again, he decided that he ought to be thankful for being raised harshly. No, Aidan hasn’t been taught how to be a sweet, obedient pet in a big house and how to please people around him. For that, life has taught him how to take the pain and accept any task thrown upon him, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Becoming a good pet for Ilse already possessing those skills turned out to be ridiculously easy.  
Or, maybe, Aidan was so used to Ilse's requirements by now that they started feeling natural? A short wayward thought surfaced in the back of his mind (was he becoming just a little lap dog and forgetting how to fend for himself? was he becoming helpless? dependant?), but before Aidan could formulate it better, his musings were interrupted by that lousy cousin of Ilse’s who was now watching her shivering little slave dress and chatting a mile a minute. Aidan could feel that the woman annoys Ilse in general but couldn’t guess why exactly. Being disliked by Aidan was one thing, but by Ilse? Her fellow upper-class person and her relative? This cousin wasn’t any more aggravating than the people they met on every party they visited. From Aidan’s point of view, she was quite nice in comparison to some other owners. He didn’t know everything, for sure. Something in that rich, pretentious woman set Ilse’s nerves on fire; there must have been a reason for that.  
Aidan told himself to prepare for a rough evening. Maybe, Ilse will concentrate her attention on Aidan’s feet, again, as she tends to when annoyed. Aidan took a deep sigh. Birching doesn’t go on forever. He hasn’t crawled around the house for some time. It was time to remedy that, wasn’t it?  
Ilse’s answers started to feel more and more forced as the conversation progressed, and Aidan could feel the tension in the air in his very bones. The cousin didn’t seem to notice Ilse’s agitation or preferred to ignore it. Aidan wondered idly why Ilse won’t just leave or tell the other woman to go. Ilse could show admirable self-restraint at times; she could exercise patience at the worst possible moments, if someone asked Aidan. But the reservoir of Ilse’s endurance was not limitless. At the cousin’s question about Aidan’s discipline, Ilse said quite rudely: “I don’t believe in punishments. Aidan is a good boy and does as he’s being told. That’s what I want, and it’s enough for me.” The cousin made a face and told Ilse that she didn’t believe that Aidan never misbehaved. Ilse just shrugged: “Aidan lives in pain. I don’t see what added corporal discipline would change.” After these words, Ilse stood up abruptly, making Aidan scramble on the floor in his haste to keep up with his Mistress’ movements, and announced that she has a sales report to review until tomorrow morning. With that, she turned her back on the stunned cousin and started walking towards her wing in long, fast steps.  
His birching was getting closer by each hurried step. Aidan could almost feel a twig grazing his soles already.  
Yet, when they entered the anteroom in Ilse’s private wing, Ilse ordered: “Armchair. Read,” and stormed off to her living room, alone. Soon, Aidan heard her crying. It was more of a muffled yelling than crying if Aidan was being honest. But it was a first - Ilse has never come so close to letting him witness her tears before. Actually, for her to break down in the living room was unheard of. The anteroom and the living room were the only places in the private wing where strangers were allowed sometimes (relative “strangers” - Ilse’s personal lawyer, for example), that’s why Ilse usually saved her emotional outbursts for the library or the bedroom.  
Instead of reading in the armchair, as ordered, Aidan froze on the floor and stayed that way until the crying subsided.  
Aidan wasn’t called up to his Mistress that evening. It was not his first night alone, on his futon in the corner of the small room, not by a long shot. But she usually spent her evenings together with Aidan, or, at least, wished him good night. Her silence was wrong on so many levels that Aidan didn’t even try to put that wrongness into words.  
When the night came, Aidan was lying on his futon and thinking. Sleep didn’t come, no surprise here - Ilse’s decision to spend the evening alone has left Aidan reeling. Of course, Ilse did spend some hours without him, but not like that. It felt as if they had a quarrel. But they didn’t! If Aidan somehow participated in the day’s activities other than following Ilse everywhere, or if they had at least one meaningful conversation that day, it wouldn’t be illogical to feel that way. Why did Ilse’s hurt and distress register as if they were Aidan’s personal fault? Aidan has been good all day long!  
The more hours passed, the more unstable Aidan felt.  
He tried to stave off the panic by reassuring himself that Ilse was NOT angry with him, that she can’t, shouldn’t be angry with Aidan right now. It was just the stupid cousin and her poor boy. Who even treats such a skinny child that way? And those remarks; did she try to get a rise out of Ilse on purpose?  
Aidan’s disdain towards the cousin provided a much-needed distraction. He pursued this train of thought.  
OK, the cousin definitely riled Ilse up purposefully. But then, the question is, how did she manage to succeed? What angered Ilse so much?  
Aidan didn’t know. He tried to recall everything that has been told during the conversation in the living room, tried to look at the cousin’s words from different sides, but it didn’t enlighten him. What did the cousin do differently from all other arrogant pricks Ilse saw every day? Aidan couldn’t pinpoint anything. It was a dead end.  
From there, his thoughts slid to Ilse’s phrase about Aidan’s life. Aidan huffed indignantly in the dark of the anteroom. No, Aidan didn’t think that he lived in pain; he lived in luxury, never went hungry and didn’t have to work himself to exhaustion. He even had a dog to play with. Not to mention that Ilse hasn’t even once expressed any interest in his ass other than deeming its bums perfect for spanking. All of that was totally OK with Aidan; more than OK.  
Ilse’s house was a good place for him. Aidan felt the need to try harder for Ilse; to be better for her; to never bring her disappointment. He needed to be good enough for her so that she would not sell him again, ever.  
The mere possibility to be sold by Ilse was scary.

 

Midnight comes and goes. At 1 a.m., a treacherous thought crawls into Aidan’s head: what if the cousin manages to persuade Ilse that punishments are necessary? What if Ilse decides that her usual measures are not enough and decides to step up the game?

The rest of the night Aidan spends with the lights on, curled up in his corner with Ilse’s book and trying to stave off the images of his previous Owner watching his overseer discipline Aidan by fucking him right after the generous whipping Aidan has been given. Bent over the railing in a barn, Aidan could only see the boots of the Owner a few meters away. Strangely, but seeing him there was making the situation even more hopeless.  
Aidan wants to crawl to Ilse’s bedroom and lie down in front of the door. He wouldn’t disturb her, he would just lie there, very still, knowing that his current Owner is behind that door, that she dislikes dicks and all the things fucking-related, that Aidan is only hers to touch…

The next morning, upon finding Aidan curled up in a crooked pose under a succulent in the library, just a meter away from the bedroom’s door, Ilse acts as if nothing has happened. Aidan assumes his kneeling position in front of her with the grace of a newborn hippo. Ilse pats him on the head and sends him off to order her breakfast.  
There are neither excessive shows of adoration during the day nor painplay in the evening. Aidan is more than grateful for that - his head feels muddled up and heavy, his thoughts are jumping like fleas, and he feels a little feverish. It’s only nerves, he can tell, nothing particularly concerning. The latter doesn’t mean he can fool Ilse into thinking he is alright, unfortunately - she sees right through him. The realisation only makes Aidan contemplate just how jittery and annoying he must be to Ilse right now, the day when he’s promised himself he’ll be giving her his all. Such thoughts send his mind into another loop which, in turn, makes him sweaty and jumpy. Maybe, it’s a bad sign that she doesn’t do the things he got used to expecting from her?  
When the night comes, Ilse tells him to kneel on a throw pillow at the foot of the bed. When he settles, she lies down on the bed, facing Aidan, her feet dangling in the air next to her pillows. Aidan sits straight, his hands held loosely in his lap, his eyes staring ahead; in position, as he is supposed to. All he sees from there is the wood of the bed and the linen-covered mattress. He can catch glimpses of Ilse’s head in his peripheral vision but that’s all about it.  
Usually, it is one of her favourite set-ups for talking to Aidan about the things that annoyed her that particular day (the list was never short). It is a safe place. Usually.  
Aidan can’t still his breathing. His hands… they are shaking.

“Aidan.”  
“Yes, Mistress.”  
“Look up at me.”  
Aidan does.  
“I can’t take you to bed. I know you are angry that I’ve let you alone outside yesterday. But I don’t feel like touching anyone today.”  
Aidan barely stops himself from opening his mouth wide in surprise. He? Angry at Ilse? How did she even come to such a conclusion?  
Then he looks at Ilse again and notices, for the first time that day, how tired she looks. Aidan feels guilt gnawing at his insides instantly. How could he act so aloof when Ilse clearly needed his attention?  
“Mistress,” - Aidan utters, swallowing around the lump in his throat. - “Mistress, I was not angry. I was not angry at all, Mistress. You don’t have to… do anything for me.”  
He wants to add that he can’t be angry at her - he is the slave here, after all, but she hates hearing that reminder from him so he leaves it unsaid.  
Ilse shakes her head. Her tentative smile droops, and she asks in dismay:  
“What was it then? You were so tense around me - like I’ve bought you yesterday!”  
“Mistress, I’m…” - tries Aidan and closes his mouth shut. He doesn’t want to say “sorry” - she doesn’t like too many “sorry-s” from him and he has to provide a valid explanation to each and every one. He can’t invent a white lie she’d believe right away - on top of it, she is getting better and better at catching him when he lies, so he can’t risk it. He can’t articulate the true reason of his nervousness, either, - his feelings are unclear for him and he doesn’t think that trying to explain them to Ilse will help.  
So Aidan stays silent, and Ilse does, too. Aidan doesn’t look at her anymore - he dropped his head and closed his eyes. He was not ordered to change his position - one more little failure to add to a horrible day after an overwhelming night. The horror of disappointing Ilse looms over Aidan again, tremendous and wild.  
“Aidan,” - sounds Ilse’s voice from above. She sounds so exhausted that Aidan’s eyes snap open and his head whirls upward.  
“I shouldn't be doing this now,” - she mutters.  
Then, she climbs higher onto the bed and gets under the covers - according to the sounds, Aidan can’t see her up there.  
“Go take a shower and climb here.”  
“But…” - Aidan starts to say (she told him “no touch”, didn’t she?).  
“Be quick about it and stay mute in the process, Aidan,” - she says in a level tone. It sounds more like total exhaustion than calmness. Aidan hurries off to shower. He does all the things as if in trance; he can’t stop the whirlpool of worries in the back of his mind (and eventually, he stops trying).  
When he returns, still a little damp and wearing his special slippers to not walk barefoot (because only boys with very clean feet are allowed on Ilse’s bed), Ilse pats the place next to her.  
Aidan climbs up and lies down on his back - it is how Ilse usually puts him. But with a few touches, she indicates that he should lie on his side, with his back to her. Aidan obeys wordlessly; he doesn’t understand a thing anymore.  
“I’d tie up your hands, but I’m tired,” - Ilse murmurs from behind. - “Be a good boy, just relax and let me slee-yaap,” - by the end of the phrase, Ilse yawns and her voice quiets down. The next thing Aidan knows is Ilse putting her arms around his middle and throwing her leg over his hips. He tries to not tense up, which is hard since he feels like he’ll hurt her if he as much as moves a muscle. It is easier to lie on his back and let her use his chest as a pillow. And yet… Even in his shocked state, Aidan realises that this is her ultimate show of trust, an indication that she isn’t angry with him (while she has every right to be!), that she wants him close despite her own mood swings.  
Actually, it is nice to lie there with Ilse. The bed sheets smell like her (very thin, barely noticeable notes), it feels cosy and safe. And, what’s the most important, Ilse is so close to him.  
Aidan waits until Ilse rolls off of him in her sleep before moving. She curls up on the other side of the mattress. He tucks her in and settles on the edge of the bed, taking up as little space as he can. He takes a comfortable pose to watch Ilse sleeping and slowly drifts off himself. He doesn’t dream, doesn’t stir, and wakes up well-rested.

  
Aidan often thinks about this night later. How she cuddled him despite her fear of being touched (this fear was on and off constantly, making Ilse switch from hugging Aidan all the time to ordering him to stay a meter away), how she genuinely asked him why he was angry with her, how she didn’t push him for an answer.  
Days and weeks after that, he asks himself: was it one of her whims, or did she feel the need to comfort him in the most basic way, when words were too complicated?  
Despite his attempts at staying level-headed, Aidan foolishly lets himself believe in the latter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you hate the cousin, too?  
> I bet you do!
> 
> Thanks for sticking with us!


	7. 1 month before the Freedom Day, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, you meet an old asshat who ruins Aidan's good time with his favourite dog, makes Ilse cry and causes undue mayhem. Also, emotional stress becomes the reason for some unexpected confessions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dears!
> 
> This is an important chapter. Ilse and Aidan get closer to each other with every passing month. I divided this longer episode into two parts as to not disrupt the fluent flow of my pretty little chapters.  
> Gosh, even my chapters now are "pretty" and "little"!
> 
> Attention, everybody! RAPE! It's disgusting.
> 
> Anyway, I hope your reading goes well.

Aidan shifts on the bed where he is lying atop a heap of pillows stacked so neatly under his pelvis that he reminds himself of a strawberry atop layers of a cake.  
“Yes, I’m very comfortable, Mistress. Thank you for your care.”  
His brown-eyed Mistress makes eye-contact one last time, checking on him, giggles and slides off the bed. Aidan, lulled to complacency by her quiet mutterings somewhere out of his line of sight, relaxes and lets his mind drift.  
Not for the first time, he finds himself searching for the right name for the hue of Ilse’s irises. Is it chestnut? Chocolate, maybe? Does anyone say so? Aidan hasn’t met this combination of words in any of the books he read. Ilse made him read so many books containing love-stories; there must’ve been something concerning brown eyes. He must have forgotten… Ilse’s voice interrupts his daydreaming.  
“You lie still for me, pretty boy, and I’ll do the rest.”  
Aidan guesses it's going to be a long ride.  
He murmurs his thanks, and the first blow of the leather paddle lands on his ass.

Later that day, Aidan (“beautifully bruised”, as Ilse calls it) is sent to the garden to have some fresh air. Mr Mouse, artfully coated in mud after the latest rain, greets Aidan heartily and they run off onto the lawn. Aidan and Mr Mouse are having one of the most satisfying tussles they’ve had in a while when a maid comes out of the back door and calls Aidan in, her voice urgent. Aidan hurries up to comply. He cleans up hastily in the closest bathroom on the first floor (which happens to be the one in the storage room near the kitchen) and trots down the hall to the main living room where his Mistress is sitting on one of the light-green couches. He barely manages to kneel on his pillow at Ilse’s feet (she fluffs up his hair and gives it a little tug) in time to let his eyes fall demurely to his lap and assume a proper position before they hear the entrance door open.  
While they listen to the noises from the entrance hall, Aidan wonders, once again, why Ilse almost never requires a certain presentation from him. He’d expected this to be the first thing he will learn in the new household, but no. That’s why, in this and similar situations, he has no other choice but to resume the position he’s been taught at school: his spine straight, his knees and feet at a certain distance from each other, his hands on his thighs, palms up. He tries his best to look disciplined and well-trained. Aidan is sure that a slacking off slave would reflect badly on Ilse’s reputation; he’s disappointed she won’t give him a line to follow here, where his lack of skill would be so obvious.  
Ilse teasingly tugs at his earlobe - his adherence to rules she didn’t impose on him amuses her to no end. Aidan shivers slightly and gives her the tiniest of annoyed looks from under his fringe (it’s grown out too long again but she’ll never let him have it cut down properly; says, his blonde mane is just perfect the way it is), making her snicker.  
She laughs so much, but in an odd way, notices Aidan. Looks like she’s nervous.  
Ilse only proves his suspicion right when she leans into his ear and whispers:  
“He’ll be an asshole to me, as always, just you see.”  
Her father, then. If so - she’s totally right in her assessment.  
“But you be a good boy, sit here, stay relaxed for me and try to remember as many desert flower names as you can. I’ll ask you later, Aidan, so don’t get too lax.”  
Aidan groans internally. This makes things much worse - she told him all about those flowers a week ago, but Aidan just enjoyed the sound of her voice instead of paying attention and didn’t catch a single name!  
Aidan tunes all noises out and spends the first part of Ilse’s father’s visit recounting any and all flower names he’s ever heard; he’ll try his luck and offer what he remembers, they can’t all be off the mark, right?..  
His panicky thoughts are interrupted by a tug on his leash (when did she clip one to his collar? It isn’t protocol inside the house! He didn’t think about bringing a leash himself, was it an oversight on his part?). Thankfully, Aidan’s body is conditioned better than his brain. It goes through the motions on autopilot: raises from its knees, walks two steps behind its Mistress all the way to the dining hall, stands and waits until a servant brings a pillow for it, then kneels there.  
Ilse sits down and starts playing with Aidan’s curls. For the first time since he’s been summoned from the garden (apologies again, Mr Mouse!), Aidan notices that Ilse is dressed up, and nicely, too. Her attire consists of navy slacks and a bright-blue blouse with multiple knots of ribbons on the front. The blouse’s high collar nicely accentuates her long, pale neck. Aidan stares at her shoes - elegant black leather, no heel, and another set of little bows on the rounded front. Aidan likes this pair. His stupid dick strains against its steely cage slightly, almost making Aidan roll his eyes. Does his dick have a thing for Ilse’ boots now, huh? What next, her gloves? Socks? Pyjama bottoms? Anyway, this close to the end of the month (without the release of any kind, save for occasional wet dreams), his body always behaves erratically. Aidan will chalk it up to this.  
Anyway!  
Bad, stupid, reckless Aidan! Stop thinking about such things!  
If he starts dripping on the floor, realises Aidan, it will be a disaster. Ilse’s father won’t let it slide.  
Aidan is imagining licking his own fluids off the floor which elicits disgusted noises from Ilse (and excites his fantasy-self even more) when, as if through a fog, he hears Ilse’s father say his name and order him something. Aidan startles.  
In his frozen state, he is still able to recall Ilse’s rules for him. Ilse hasn’t called his name, of that he is sure. So, he’s never been told to listen to Ilse’s father.  
Aidan ignores the asshole. He still can’t discern the words but he knows that he answers only to Ilse.  
The father’s voice sounds angry now. He shouts.  
Ilse stands up and her voice joins the cacophony - she is saying something heatedly. But Aidan’s name doesn’t come up, and Aidan relaxes into his waiting mode.  
Loud footsteps, a door shut forcefully, steps down the corridor.  
Ilse falls down in her chair, folds her arms on the table and starts shaking with how hard she is crying.  
Aidan hugs her legs gingerly - she doesn’t nudge him away - and settles into watchful waiting once again.  
She’ll use him when she deems fit.

After Aidan’s fail at recounting any flowers of the right kind, Ilse (still teary-eyed and visibly shaken) tuts at Aidan reproachfully and decides to give him one more chance to learn. Now, Ilse is lecturing him about the strange and inventive desert flowers, again, and, unlike the previous time, Aidan listens attentively. He wants to improve Ilse’s mood after the disaster that was their lunch.  
Ilse transferred herself to her land of plants completely. There’s sense, and logic, and beauty - all the things that are lacking in human life. Aidan doesn’t even notice how he falls under her spell and gets invested himself. Plants are magnificent; he didn’t even know that their structure is so complicated and well thought-through. He could have started listening to Ilse’s explanations sooner. Hell, he’s spent two years on a farm, literally dealing with all kinds of vegetables all the time, and he didn’t even think of all that.  
Aidan likes this version of Ilse the most, he decides.  
He wonders why she doesn’t teach some kids or organize lectures. To people who are interested in this topic, her explanations would be more valuable than to Aidan. Aidan feels a little sorry that all Ilse’s knowledge and passion are only shared with him, a barely literate slave (he didn’t try very hard at the boarding school, read all the textbooks, maybe, and only today, for the very first time, he has a reason to be sorry about that).  
And Ilse talks, and talks, and Aidan listens to her, and doesn’t understand all the special terms, and can’t catch the minuscule details Ilse describes so vividly. He inevitably loses her train of thought like he’s done the time before that and just enjoys the music of her voice, again. Her voice is so soft and enveloping; it can be shrill when she gets too agitated or too high when she’s angry. Her voice is unique just as she is. She is not just his Mistress; she is a person outside of that and she doesn’t hesitate to share the things she holds precious with him.  
Aidan watches Ilse showing off her collection of dried plants, her hair in a messy ponytail at the back of her skull, a comfy long skirt hiding her legs from view completely, eyes puffy from all the tears she’s shed before, and really notices her for the first time.  
She is beautiful.

 

 

A week later, Ilse asks him why he hasn’t listened to her father’s orders.  
Aidan looks up at her in confusion from where he lounges on the thick carpet in her library in front of her working desk. She stopped typing and waits for his answer with a note of impatience in her gaze.  
“You haven’t repeated his command to me, Mistress,” - he says, slowly, and tilts his head to the side, unsure of what to think. He knows he is not to take orders from anyone. It’s basic knowledge for a slave. There are owners who let their family members use their slaves however they want, but Ilse has clearly stated the boundaries for Aidan during his first week at her house.  
Aidan misses the point of asking this question.  
Ilse furrows her forehead and breathes in deeply through her nose as if contemplating something.  
Then, it seems like she made some sort of decision. She straightens her spine and looks Aidan in the eyes.  
“I think that loyalty should be cherished and rewarded.”  
A deep inhale.  
“You can ask one thing from me. Something I am able to provide, of course, in all meanings of the word.”  
Aidan watches her fumble with the rings on her fingers and can’t comprehend what she wants from him.  
“Aidan,” - she snaps finally. - “It’s a one-time offer. Don’t make me wait!”  
Aidan’s mind is one big, whirling black hole, devoid of anything worthy of mentioning in front of his Mistress. He just blinks at her owlishly and continues falling into the dark depths.  
Ilse sighs at him exasperatedly. She collects herself and says evenly:  
“Good. It’s alright. Let’s start anew. Aidan, tell me what you want. Just now, the first thing that pops up in your brain.”  
Her command lifts the proverbial lid on the one wish Aidan wouldn’t admit even to himself. It’s as if this wish just couldn’t wait to be put under the spotlight, so bright it shines in Aidan’s mind. Like a supernova, it blows off for the world to see:

“I want to stay here. Don’t sell me, please, Mistress!”

It’s Ilse’s turn to look confused, it seems.

Before she manages to ask him anything, more words pour from Aidan’s mouth.

“Please, let me serve you for as long as I can! I can be good! I won’t disappoint you, I promise! I can’t go back! I don’t want to serve anyone after I got to know you! Ilse, please!...”

Her name falls from his tongue so easily. It takes a moment for Aidan’s brain to catch up with his big mouth. He freezes in utter horror. He calls her by her name in his head from day one, but no slave can allow himself such brazenness in open view.

Ilse watches him, her lips parted in shock.

Aidan needs to pull himself up to his knees, no, prostrate himself in front of her. Needs to plead for forgiveness.

He’s such a fool.

He’s such an unbelievable, reckless, brainless fool.

He should’ve said he wants a new book or to wear jeans outside, why would his brain betray him like that?

He blurted out his most sacred wish. A wish he didn’t even let himself pronounce in his head.

But she asked this of him?... How could he not?

Aidan’s world is crumbling around him.

He notices that he is crying when Ilse’s hand thrusts through the wet cotton that’s surrounded him unnoticeably and cradles his cheek tenderly.

Aidan opens his eyes and looks at his Mistress blearily.  
She smiles at him warmly and starts wiping his face with a kerchief.

“You shouldn’t get used to calling me Ilse, silly,” - she says, still smiling, no hint of malice in her gaze. - “If you ever call me that outside, I’ll have to pretend I’m annoyed with you.”  
“I would hate to,” - she murmurs, brushing his fringe from before his eyes.

Then, she stands up and tugs Aidan to his feet. Not for the first time, Aidan marvels at how strong her grip is.

He follows her to the bedroom, where she closes the curtains shut, turns on a small lamp on the bedside table and makes Aidan climb under the covers with her.  
She hugs him from behind, her arms around his neck, her hands lying on his pectorals, his head pillowed by her chest.  
She squeezes him tightly in her arms, so tight that Aidan can barely pull in a breath.  
She puts her pointy chin on Aidan’s mop of hair and starts talking.

First of all, Ilse tells him that she never, ever wants to sell him.

“... If my father takes all my money and throws me out of the house, he won’t be able to take you from me - slaves can’t be easily separated from their rightful owners in our country, isn’t it wonderful? They won’t even be able to take you away from me as debt payment - because I can use you as a means to repay my debt. Silly, right?...”

Aidan listens. Not all words are reaching him in that place inside his cotton prison, but he hears enough to feel his heart flutter warmly in his chest.

“... We will move to another city. I will look for a job as a laboratory assistant somewhere at a university, or a botanic garden. And you... I could lend you to a bakery. Or somewhere else. It would be funny if you earned more money than me! I’m sure you’ll find a new job in the wink of an eye. You’re such a capable boy, I would know…”

That Aidan understands. Yes, he wants to say, you can lend me to a bakery. Or wherever you want. Wherever pays best. Not a brothel though, he hopes. But he trusts her not to do that to him.  
Ilse continues speaking, and Aidan is still too slow with his words to manage to answer her in tiny pauses she allows herself between her agitated passages.

“... Your previous owner didn’t want to part with you, oh no, Aidan. But I had to have you; you, and no one else. No one else, you hear me? He said you were his best worker. I told him he lies - best workers don’t have as many stripes on their backs…”

Why is she talking about those times? Does she have to?  
Aidan doesn’t understand. He is here, she is here, he doesn’t want to go back, even if it’s in his memory only.

“... The man told me: “The other boys don’t talk back like he does,” - and grinned at me. It was already after I saw you getting whipped outside the barn. You were so gorgeous in your suffering, Aidan. I’ve never seen anyone take punishment like you. I knew then that I’ve come there not for nothing…”

Aidan remembers that day, too. He bit his lips bloody trying to hold back his screams. He managed it, for the most part.  
Goddess, he hates the whips so much. His back still bears thin white traces of all those times at the whipping post on the farm.  
He didn’t talk back, fuck! He fought back when they raped him.  
That’s different.  
Aidan sniffles.

“... And then I told him that I will buy you right that moment and give him a good price at that, or I will leave and never come back. I would have gotten you, of course, one way or another. But he believed me. Was happy about easy money. He was a real piece of work, your first owner. Didn’t think I’d notice how you were walking, with that wide gait, huh? O, Aidan!”

She shushes him gently and rocks him slightly in his arms. Aidan turns to his side and she lets him bury his head in her tummy, lie there half-hidden under the heavy blanket while she pets his hair and apologizes for reminding him about all that.

“... Oh, Aidan, dear, I will never mention it again! Now I feel like a real monster…”

She trails off, and Aidan doesn’t want her to stop talking, no way.

Not next to that man, wants Aidan to say, but instead, he slurs something incomprehensible because of all the snot and tears on his face, and oh, he’s marred her pretty shirt, she’ll be so disgusted when she notices…  
Ilse only hugs him closer and plays with his curls, scratching his scalp lightly from time to time. It’s soothing, and Aidan starts feeling safer.  
He doesn’t know what prompts him to bawl out:

“He let his overseer fuck me!”

Ilse doesn’t say anything, doesn’t flinch, doesn’t say that she’s sorry. She just pulls him closer to herself and strokes his side in a silent show of comfort.

The words keep tumbling out of Aidan’s mouth, like before this evening, and he is powerless to stop the flow.

“He knew! The owner always knew! And he never did anything! I could barely move in the morning. Ilse, it hurt so bad. And no one worried about me! The other boys just ignored me, as if talking to me would make that guy notice them, too! He fucked all the boys and girls he wanted. But no one struggled, like me! He kept bringing me trouble, kept pushing me, and then… and then…”

Aidan just wails for goddess knows how long.

He comes back to Ilse’s muted:

“Hey, boy, easy there, your arms are strong, yeah? Let up a bit, Aidan, my ribs…”

Aidan almost falls from the bed in his haste to stop causing Ilse discomfort.

“Stop, “- rings her voice, loud and clear. Aidan stops flailing immediately. She owns him. She is in control.

“Aidan, look at me,” - is said again in that steely tone.

She won’t share Aidan. She wants him all to herself.

Aidan meets Ilse’s gaze. Her eyes are a wonderful, rich brown colour, with a few specks of blue in the right iris. He forgot about that detail when he searched for the right hue in his mind.  
There is no one like her.

“Yes, Ilse,” - he hears himself saying.

“You are mine, and mine alone. Got it?”

“Yes, Ilse.”

“That man - he won’t touch you anymore. If you remember him again, you find me. That’s a rule now. Even if I left you to sleep in the anteroom. You wake me up if I sleep and tell me. You tell me and I handle it from there. Got it?”

“Yes, Ilse.”

“You are not to call me Ilse outside of my private wing or in the presence of anyone else.”

“I understand, Mistress.”

“Good. Now lie down, on your back. I need some relaxation myself now.”

The rest of the evening Ilse spends teasing and torturing Aidan’s nipples with her fingers and nails.  
It’s so erotic and sensual that Aidan doesn’t know what to do with himself.  
His dick strains against its cage painfully - it is not for the first time, but never before has Aidan felt a need quite like the one he feels now: all-encompassing, sultry, desperate. It’s as if he and Ilse have only now discovered the true purpose of his chastity device - to keep Aidan on the edge of excruciatingly sweet denial, to grant his submission new colours.  
Aidan longs to feel the sort of caress his chest receives on his dick, too. Wants Ilse to play with him there, too. He is ready to endure cruel teasing or even pain there, if only to get to know how Ilse’s touch to his private parts would feel.  
Aidan pants and writhes on the mattress, sweaty and delirious with want, his poor nipples raw and swollen, his dick caged and neglected. Ilse seems to be so pleased with him right now.  
This is how it’s supposed to be - him aching and Ilse satisfied with his suffering.  
The weak person that he is, Aidan whimpers and begs her.  
In the rational part of his mind, he doesn’t think that she’d be willing to give him the things he begs her for - like mercy, or, goddess forbid, release.  
It doesn’t really matter, for as long as she enjoys tormenting him.  
He is allowed to call her Ilse; he’s being loud and she doesn’t gag him, letting his desperate pleas amuse her further.  
She touches him, she listens to him, and she enjoys him.  
Aidan is hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think of Ilse's confessions?
> 
> There are bonuses today, too!
> 
> 1\. The storage room near the kitchen - the bathroom is in the lower left part of it:  
> 
> 
> 2\. The main living room - view from above (see Ilse's living room on the 2nd floor to the right?):  
> 
> 
>  
> 
> The next part even more interesting! Stay tuned! And as always, thank you for reading!


	8. 1 month before the Freedom Day, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ilse is invited to a party. She dresses Aidan up and expects to spend a pleasant evening showing off her favourite boy. It doesn't go as planned, and Aidan has to pay for his Mistress' disappointment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dears
> 
> This is a sad chapter. It only starts jovially. Personally, I like the dressing up part the most. I love the angsty part, too, but that's me.  
> Aidan is a very unhappy boy by the end of the chapter. Lots of punishment here!
> 
> Have a nice reading!

“Girls are perfect for punishment. Girls are better at everything,”  \- informs him Ilse the morning they go out to a tea party in the house of her aunt.

“Yes, Mistress,” - agrees Aidan demurely, letting her drape the heavy silk of his new, elaborate skirt around his hips. It’s azure, a bright, vibrant colour Aidan thinks he doesn’t deserve wearing. But it’s Ilse’s choice - so he has to. On top, he wears a sleek white V-neck from a simpler fabric. A silky azure scarf is draped around his neck and shoulders. Aidan is afraid to breathe in this ensemble - and Ilse makes him practice in her inner rooms until he is able to move with his usual flexibility.  
Ilse all but squeals in her joy when she looks him over the last time before they exit. In response, Aidan smiles despite himself - he doesn’t have to do anything to please her, these days. She does everything herself and takes great pleasure in it. She dresses him up (more than before), paints his nails, makes him hold weird poses, teases him - and, of course, she spanks him.  
After that talk about his previous life, Aidan doesn’t feel scared with Ilse, even if she gets rough and, how he calls it, “bloodthirsty”. She never draws any actual blood. Some sessions leave Aidan hurting, high on pain and endorphins. Some leave him malleable like goo and blissfully unaware of his surroundings. But - never scared.  
Aidan is proud of himself. Proud that he can take the pain Ilse wants to inflict on him.  
She says she is proud, too.  
Before they leave for the party, Aidan undresses and goes over Ilse’s lap on her bed and receives a thorough paddling with her own hairbrush. Ilse mercifully allows him to hold onto a pillow the entire time but scolds him whenever he tries to muffle his grunts of pain with it. But, as any spanking, even the most painful one, it has an end. Ilse helps him to his feet and coos:  
“Now, Aidan, all done. Does it hurt a lot?”  
“Yes, Mistress.”  
He never calls her Ilse during their pain plays - seems too out of place.  
“That’s right, it’s supposed to be. Want to know that my boy is hurting under all these flimsy fabrics.”  
Aidan sighs. His dick is valiantly trying to do the impossible and break free from the cage. Their new dynamic is definitely impacting his imprisoned member in an unpleasant way.  
It is good to be caged at a party, though. No one at the tea table would want to see a pet boy with a boner under his fancy skirt.  
Ilse decided to let him come twice a month, again. It’s a blessing, with how intense her teasing became. Aidan supposes it’s because she found out how much she enjoys commanding him to come from the other side of the door (and edging him verbally beforehand). Aidan wants her to see him, when he strains against the door on the other side, wants her to look at how his angry-red cock is twitching in his palm when he squeezes it hard to prevent himself from spending too early; how he pants and writhes and whines; how he suffers for her. It’s such a waste: it’s all for Ilse, and Aidan isn’t allowed to show her.  
Being proactive, she forbid him from playing with his ass - not that he ever contemplated the idea. It’s just that sometimes Aidan thinks that any stimulation would do, and after she forbade it, putting his fingers there just to give it a try seems enticing.  
Aidan is not so happy about Ilse’s reservations towards playing with his genitals anymore - gosh, he craves her touch everywhere, now. Feeling her hands prodding at his hole seems to be the most arousing thing ever when Aidan lies on his futon right beside her bed in the night. How would it feel, compared to the rough fingers of that man and his even rougher dick? Ilse wouldn’t hurt him the same vulgar way, but she’d find other ways to make it painful. She’d totally want to spank his asshole one day...  
See, Aidan is constantly horny nowadays. He’d totally pop a boner in the middle of the ballroom if not for the cage. It’s a blessing in disguise.  
But what if she decided to test him and he couldn’t control his urges? Next, Aidan imagines Ilse dragging him back home by his ear and punishing his wayward dick for its impertinence. She could use a light birch or hot wax…

A slap to his smarting rear jolts Aidan out of his lustful daydreams.

“Time to put your pretty skirt back on, darling,” - sing-songs Ilse. - “Sorry, there won't be any soothing lotion for you today. I want you ass to retain its red glow when we return in the evening. Then, I’ll use the birch on it. But don’t worry, after that, I will help your poor buns heal. You’ll be as good as new in a day, I promise.”  
He should be careful what he wishes for, thinks Aidan. See, he will get the desired birch today. Lucky him.  
Ilse adds the leash (a white one, this time) and leads him proudly through the halls of her house.  
It’s her time to shine.

 

The party is a success, as far as Aidan can tell.  
There’s every kind of entertainment Aidan could think of. There are little snacks of all sorts and fashions, fancy cocktails in high glasses, even a chocolate fountain. Aidan eyes the latter with disdain; Ilse tries to eat healthily, but the fountain is definitely a big threat to her plan of staying on the good side. He himself is seated at Ilse’s feet on a giant crimson throw pillow. It’s so big and soft that Aidan thinks he may ask Ilse to buy him a similar one. If she ever asks what he wants again. He will have an answer ready this time. “I want an enormous, soft pillow, Mistress. I’ll put it…”  
As it happens lately, Aidan’s musings are rudely interrupted.  
By none other than Ilse, of course.  
She gasps softly. Aidan looks up stealthily from under his fringe: Ilse’s posture is tense and she holds a hand at her mouth, her face full of disbelief.  
Aidan looks in the direction that has Ilse so agitated.  
There, on a plush sofa at a little table, sits a woman in a long, pretty dress. Its skirt is billowing around her waist in waves, reaching up to the woman’s bony ankles. And... there is someone under that spectacular piece of clothing. The figure is completely hidden under the folds of the skirt… and the person there is definitely busy between their owner’s thighs. Aidan feels amusement at this display. This, he never felt repulsed of. He turns his head back to his Mistress… right in time to notice how her nostrils flare and her eyes get clouded with panic.  
Aidan does the one thing he could think of he knows would snap her out of it.  
“Mistress,” - he utters in a soft, pitiful whisper. - “Mistress,” - Aidan repeats tugging at Ilse’s pant leg. - “I need to the bathroom. Please. It’s urgent!”  
Ilse slowly lowers her eyes and meets Aidan’s gaze. It’s against protocol to act like that with your slave, but why would Ilse care right now?  
She looks at Aidan for a few seconds, her brows furrowed, and Aidan reminds her:  
“Bathroom. Now. Please, Mistress.”  
Ilse’s gaze clears a little bit more and she nods.  
She stands up from her seat and helps Aidan to rise to his feet without disrupting the beautiful layers of his own fabulous skirt. Then, she starts walking out of the room, presumably, where the bathrooms are. While Aidan wonders whether she’s been here already, he realises that Ilse is calling her driver and they are coming to another exit of the building. A valet hurries to Ilse’s side and inquires humbly if he could help her with something.  
“Actually, yes,” - replies Ilse imperiously. - “My pet feels ill, and I want to take him home. Apologize to the host on my account, please. Tell your owner, I am truly sorry.”  
She waits for the valet’s shushed confirmation that her order is going to be fulfilled immediately and marches out of the door and into the garden.  
This is a rare occasion: Aidan has to shuffle his feet under his rather narrow inner skirt very quickly to keep up with Ilse in order to not get chocked with his own collar because Ilse doesn’t pace herself at all. She’s too angry for that.  
All the way to the car, Ilse mutters under her breath, things like:  
“Their gardener is shit. To plant these bushes on a sunny place - they have to be nuts!”  
or  
“Why don’t they put it on the invitation, bright and clear: someone-will-give-you-head party, so I wouldn’t bother dressing Aidan up as if we were going to a nice, decent house!”  
Aidan keeps quiet (it’s hard to talk when the collar squeezes his neck mercilessly anyway).  
Thankfully, the garden is not as big as Ilse’s; they pass through the back gates, finally, and get into the car.  
Ilse plops on her seat and pats her thigh, indicating that Aidan has to put his head there. Aidan follows her command, and the car starts smoothly.  
Ilse is huffing indignantly all way back. Aidan stays mute and motionless while she pets his hair rather aggressively.  
When they reach her house, she storms through the halls and corridors, Aidan on her heels, the unclasped leash forgotten on the back seat.  
When they enter her bedroom, she turns to Aidan, takes a deep breath and says tiredly:  
“Thank you.”  
Aidan lifts his eyes at her in surprise.  
“You’re welcome, Mistress.”  
It is so satisfying to hear her gratitude that he can’t stop smiling. It must be contagious because Ilse smiles, if a little crookedly, too, and says:  
“Then let me help you undress, my insufferable, spoilt, gorgeous pet who so inconveniently fell sick during a ball. I will have to treat you kindly today, won’t I? Since you are so clearly in pain, my beautiful.”  
It is said with such a soft, wonderful intonation that Aidan melts. She rarely praises him so eloquently, so freely. It is a wonderful day, all in all.  
She takes the scarf off, first, then the V-neck. Admires the intricately folded azure skirt for a few ticks, then unbinds it, leaving Aidan in his beige panties only. To Aidan’s astonishment, Ilse tugs those off, too. Without gloves on her hands, just like that! She almost never touches his underwear (as rarely as he wears it) since it covers his crotch, the exact area where his imprisoned dick hangs (and mind her, Ilse hates dicks). This simple touch feels more intimate than anything she’s done to him before. A surge of arousal courses through Aidan. He moans.  
Ilse pauses, his panties in her hands, tugged down to the middle of his thigh.  
She looks up at Aidan, and he gulps. Ilse leaves the forsaken panties be and straightens up. Her smile transforms into a full-on evil smirk at that.  
Aidan stops breathing.  
“Eager, aren’t you,” - she murmurs; a statement of the fact, not a question.  
“Yes, Ilse,” - confirms Aidan unnecessarily.  
“What do I do to eager boys like you?” - asks Ilse conversationally, circling him slowly.  
“Whatever you desire at the moment, Ilse.”  
“Yeah, and more specifically?”  
“You spank their poor asses red,” - answers Aidan. He doesn’t even feel humiliation because of saying such things aloud. Pretty, eager boys exist to suffer from Ilse’s hand. That’s the truth.  
“Well, aren’t you clever for such a shameless creature?”  
Aidan doesn’t respond. She doesn’t expect him to, this time.  
“Take these off and bend over the end of the bed, dear. I think I will use the tawse this time. And then the birch. Thank the goddess, Aidan, that I don’t own any canes. I feel like giving you a taste of it now.”  
Aidan does as he is told. When he is almost in position, Ilse calls him:  
“Go to the bathroom first, pretty boy. We will be here for awhile.”

 

Aidan is sobbing into the duvet. His paddled ass was tender and aching when they went to the event already, now, after the tawse, one of her belts and, once more, her hairbrush, it’s beyond hurting. Finally, he is receiving the long-due strokes with the birch.  
She has him on his stomach, on the bed, a round, firm pillow under his pelvis. His hands clutch her bedding desperately, and every next lash makes him moan in pain.  
“That’s a good boy, taking my wrath so bravely. If you could just see that, Aidan: your backside is so red and swollen, and every birch I give you leaves a long, nasty welt. So beautiful.”  
Aidan sniffles. It hurts so badly.  
Ilse is relishing his suffering; she is going so slow this time, every strike - a masterpiece that makes Aidan suck in sharp breaths, writhe and produce pitiful, helpless sounds.  
“One more now, dear. What do you say?”  
“It hurts, Mistress.”  
“Yes, my dear. It is supposed to. One more, Aidan, for me?”  
“Of course, Mistress,” - whispers Aidan brokenly.  
The birch lands at his seat spots and Aidan howls. He can’t help but thrash his limbs haphazardly and lift up his hips.  
“Yeah, that’s it, dear, so good for me. I will just bind your legs together so that you don’t cause yourself additional stress by flailing too hard.”  
She wanders off to the library in search of the rope, and Aidan takes the blanket between his teeth, while she can’t see it, and wails.

 

Aidan is tied by his legs, lying on the bed across a heap of pillows. These are soft, and he drowns in them, feeling utterly helpless. There’s only pain and Ilse’s voice.  
“Please, my lovely, lie still. Ah-ah, no biting my pillows, you’re trained better than that.”  
Ilse strikes him with a thicker birch across his swollen ass cheeks. The strike is very light, but Aidan cries out and tries to shuffle his bound feet anyway. This is too much.  
“That’s my pretty, tough boy,” - praises him Ilse. - “So good for me! The very best boy. I am so lucky to have you, Aidan.”  
Aidan calms himself as much as he can and sinks into his deceivingly soft spanking bench. His whole ass throbs in time with his heartbeat.  
Ilse taps his left asscheek with her open palm.  
“Let’s do some more.”  
Aidan tightens his fists in the sheets again and lets the tears fall.

 

It’s almost dawn. Aidan stands in front of the window, a blanket draped over his shoulders. It feels wonderful to allow himself some rest from his constant nudity, but, if he’s being honest, it is a necessity and not him using the opportunity while Ilse sleeps. He can’t stop shaking. It started right after Ilse’s breathing evened out and she relaxed her hold on his left arm. Aidan crawled out of bed to not disturb her, hoping that the dizziness and shivers will stop wracking his frame soon… Well, a boy can hope. He spent some time lying on his side on his usual futon near the bed - the sleep didn’t come and the shaking didn’t subside. Still, he felt better after spending some time unsupervised. His body seemed to have fallen into old habits under duress; Aidan couldn’t ever catch any sleep after a whipping at the farm. It just felt too unsafe to close his eyes.  
Aidan watches the garden with his bleary, aching eyes and thinks about the time when he thought that Ilse knows his limits. It ended about seven hours ago.

 

Ilse wakes up to him lying on her bed next to her, faking sleep. Keeping his eyelids shut is a hard task. Aidan feels the need to keep track of his surroundings, to be aware. But this is better for his sore eyes, and better for Ilse.  
He feels her watch him and feigns a slow awakening.  
He even manages to smile.  
He fucks up like a true idiot, a second later. When Ilse touches his side, her usual tender, loving touch, Aidan flinches.  
He tries to pretend it was anything but what it was, but it’s too late: Ilse’s eyes grow comically wide, her lower lip starts to wobble and her brows furrow in distress. She pushes off of the bed as if she tries to put a distance between them.  
Aidan doesn’t know what to do. He hasn’t found his words yet. He is used to being beaten, but not by Ilse, not yet, at least. Aidan wants to say that he’s going to be good, wants to assure Ilse that he won’t need much time to adapt to the new level of pain - she just needs to have a little patience. He may have lost his form a bit…  
All those thoughts surge up in his muddled brain, whirl around and fall flat on their backs, like a pack of cards, let down by the wind. He lies there and helplessly looks at how Ilse sits down on the floor by her favourite folding screen with Oriental motives and hugs herself with her arms. Her pyjamas look stark white on the blue background the walls provide, and Ilse herself is white as a sheet.  
Their gazes lock: a mirrored picture of helplessness and shock.

 

Eventually, Aidan comes to Ilse and she lets him hug her.  
He lets her cry and call herself a monster. He doesn’t try to contradict: too exhausted.  
They end up lying on his futon together, face to face. Under the accompaniment of Ilse’s apologies, Aidan drifts off.

 

For a week or two, Aidan sees nightmares about being chained by his wrists to the ceiling, so that he literally has to poise on his toes while Ilse circles him, a large whip in hand, ready to strike at any moment. He wakes up screaming, every single time. That’s new, nightmares that make him scream - and all of them feature Ilse.  
He only sleeps with Ilse in her bed now. That’s new, too.  
She hasn’t hurt him once since that evening after the ball. Another novelty.  
There’s a big downside - she stopped talking to him much aside from basic orders. She also spends more time away from him and rarely touches him casually as she used to do.  
Aidan finds it unfair. He doesn’t flinch from her touches anymore - not after that first time. The urge went away fairly quickly and now he doesn’t even have to pretend. He can barely admit it to himself, but now he craves her simple touch just as much as he craved her caressing his dick just half a month ago.  
She hugs him when she goes to sleep, though. It makes him feel like a cuddle toy, not even a doll.  
The biggest (and the worst) news of all is that Ilse looks paler and weaker than ever before, and her state only declines as the days go by. Aidan doesn’t know the reason for the changes - he can’t even start guessing. Ilse has never been very stable - but never like that!  
This is limbo.  
Aidan doesn’t know what to do and how to support her when he’s flying apart by the seams himself. So he does what he does best - adapts and goes with the flow.  
What other choice does he have?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems like their sand castle is being washed off the surface...
> 
> Sorry for the pain, and thank you for sticking with me!


	9. The Freedom Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Day comes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, hello!
> 
> Fancy meeting you here!  
> This chapter is... well, I won't spoil you anything more this time! The chapter title is a spoiler enough!  
> Read and learn!
> 
> Have a nice time with my text!

  


Aidan seriously considers attempting to talk to the housekeeper about Ilse’s worsening state of health. In his head, he is constantly trying to find the right words and contemplates how to catch her at the right moment. All this proves useless when the Day comes.

  
Ilse learns about the Day and its significance alone. During this time, Aidan stays in the anteroom, trying (and failing) to read the next book she's assigned him. She wasn’t letting him watch the news with her on her laptop or overhear her conversations with her colleagues or relatives recently. Aidan just registers the fact on autopilot, as a deviation from the norm. It would be no use if Ilse would let him, anyway. In Aidan's head, there's enough place for thoughts about Ilse and her bad appetite only. Needless to say that he only reads the book because it is Ilse’s order and Aidan doesn’t want to upset her further. The words on the pages don’t want to become sentences no matter how much Aidan concentrates. It’s pointless, and Aidan is fighting the urge to send the book flying against the wall when he suddenly hears polite knocking on the door leading to the corridor. It’s a rare enough occasion to startle him. Aidan is usually aware of any visitors expected in Ilse’s private wing - there must be something urgent.

  
Just as he stands up, ready to come at the door to ask who it is, Ilse enters the anteroom from the side of her private living room.  
“Open the door, Aidan,” - she says, and Aidan obeys. Ilse’s tone is off, but he doesn’t pay attention to it: Ilse has not been herself for the last two weeks. Aidan just takes the keys and opens the lock.

  
Behind the door, all other slaves are gathered, and the housekeeper is standing behind them, too. Aidan frowns slightly. That would be a first. He doesn't like this "surprise party" one bit. But before Aidan can get the situation through his head, Ilse gives him a sign to step back and takes the doorway.

  
She tells them all to listen attentively to her, and, just as they would have without such warning, everyone does.

  
Ilse tells them all they ought to know about the new Monarch first. Then, she explains that He wants to make big changes in the country. Aidan braces himself: he expects to hear that owners are now allowed to kill slaves, that the age of “retirement” for a slave was lowered or something equally grim.

  
Well, he couldn’t have prepared himself for what he hears in reality if he tried: **_the new Monarch has outlawed slavery_**. All slaves become **_free people_** now.

  
Aidan can’t believe it. From the gasps and urgent muttering around him, Aidan can guess that other slaves feel the same.

  
Ilse leaves for a second and brings her laptop with her when she returns. She puts it on the top of “Aidan’s” chest of drawers in the anteroom and shows the videos that are recommended for watching by the newly-founded Department of Newly Freed Citizens blah-blah-something.  
There’s a lot to take in. Aidan doesn’t remember much after watching the videos. He only knows that he won’t have to die sooner than he's expected to and that his life won’t become worse (probably). The idea of “freedom” itself stays too abstract for him.

  
Actually, there’s only one thought in his head, put on repeat: _what happens with him and Ilse now?..._

  
When Ilse thinks that her slaves (ex-slaves, ha!) watched enough videos and that every ex-slave remembers they have to be at the Department's premises tomorrow at 8 a.m. sharp (the city will even provide them with a bus to ride there, they only have to exit the gates of her property at 7.30 a.m.), she sends the ex-slaves and the housekeeper away.

  
Aidan stays behind; that’s his usual place. He is uncertain of what he is supposed to do at this moment. No, not like that. He doesn't have the slightest idea what to do now!

This is why, just as he did for a year and two months, he looks up to Ilse for guidance.

  
She is not meeting his eyes which is alarming in itself. Aidan gets a sinking feeling in his stomach. She’s holding her torso with her arms and purses her lips tightly, at that. She sometimes does that when she wants to cry so hard she can barely hold on. Aidan also takes her slumped posture in, and the worry for her awakens in him with new force. it’s ridiculous how well he’s attuned to Ilse even when his concentration is shit on the overall.

Silence settles over the small anteroom. To Aidan, it seems like the floorboards are quaking and "his" armchair creaks loudly though nothing in the room moves. He becomes all too aware of his clammy skin and cold hands.

When Ilse finally opens her mouth to speak, the world fades away.

  
“The change concerns you, too, Aidan. You are a free man now. You don’t have to be here anymore. You can leave.”

  
She throws something in the overall direction where Aidan stands, gobsmacked, and flees.

The item falls on the parquet floor with a distinct clinking sound.

Aidan barely notices.

  
He’s shocked, he’s paralyzed, he’s mute. He can’t find his words.

.

..

...

  
Aidan still tries to make himself call after Ilse or take a step towards her when he hears the key turn in the keyhole of Ilse’s living room’s door. He can't believe his ears.

  
It must be a bad joke.

Just a joke, right?

In all his time here, Ilse has never locked that door when he’s on the other side.

 

Aidan’s brain mercifully shuts down soon.

 

 

The next time he becomes aware of his surroundings is when a maid comes to get him - said bus from the Department has arrived and is waiting only for him.

  
The bus has to stay at the gates of Ilse's mansion for another ten minutes, though. All of Aidan’s clothes for the “outside” are in Ilse’s living room closet. In “his” chest of drawers in the anteroom, there are only socks and underwear. He wasn't required to wear anything but his cock cage in this house.

  
The maid snickers when she sees Aidan's choice of colourful panties in the top drawer. It rings hollow to Aidan - he can't truly catch the meaning of the sound. Thankfully, the maid is well-meaning enough to help Aidan hunt down someone’s shoes, trousers, shirt and jacket. He thinks numbly that he would’ve gone naked if not for that maid - he is still too out of it to remember that no one is going to dress him when he leaves the house from yesterday on. Somewhere deep inside his head, Aidan is grateful to the girl. In the real world, he wordlessly puts the proffered items on and drags himself through the corridors of the spacious mansion, then into the garden and, finally, onto the street where the bus driver is tapping his foot impatiently in front of his cabin. Despite his agitated state, the man acts politely when he invites Aidan inside the bus and offers to take any seat he likes. Aidan climbs the steps, walks to the last row of seats and hides in the very corner.

  
Soon, the engine roars to life, the bus starts to move - and, as easy as that, starts the new phase in Aidan’s life.

Aidan looks around. Evidently, that's not a place for Ilse - he can imagine her anywhere but in a bus filled with thirty other people.

 

  
Aidan turns his head to the window and closes his eyes.

He just hopes he won’t cry too loudly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was the Freedom Day what you expected it to be for Aidan, huh?
> 
> He's not too happy with the new development.
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Bonus: the anteroom, the anteroom's bathroom (yes, Aidan had a nice, fully furnished bathroom all to himself), a piece of Ilse's living room and also Ilse's own big bathroom (remember the masturbation scenes? that happened here!)  
> 


	10. 5 days after the Freedom Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ilse doesn't open the door, and Aidan is sick from worrying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone!
> 
> The events start to make a drastic turn! Aidan is acting!  
> He's still in a bad place but he needs time to adjust.
> 
> Be patient with my boy! He deserves all the love!

Aidan can barely hold on every day he spends without Ilse.

Every day, he cooks something and leaves it in the fridge with a note stating the date and the time of production. Below, he signs: “For Ilse”.

None of those meals gets eaten by her.

Aidan eats them himself the next day. It’s kind of convenient - he doesn’t have to cook another portion for himself. Ha. Who is he kidding? He isn’t afraid of a little more cooking (hell, he needs to do something,  _ anything _ to not go mad when he stays alone in the evening!)

 

Actually, Aidan doesn’t notice Ilse leaving her rooms. He prays that it turns out that she does it while he’s absent (he doesn’t want to even  _ consider _ the alternative).

He feeds Mr Mouse and waters the plants. There are lots of plants. It’s a good distraction (or, simply, a very time-consuming task that takes his thoughts off his current predicament). Aidan is glad he can busy himself with gardening even if every flower and every leaf remind him of something Ilse has said or done.

 

Aidan  _ is trying _ .

He is trying hard to blend in when he is at the meetings in the Department. He is trying hard to learn how to live this strange new life. He is trying to not be a burden to any of his new teachers or assigned social workers (whom he still can’t help but call his overseers in his head from time to time).

Every day, he is trying to prove that he does cherish this new opportunity, that he wants to be better, that he wants to succeed in becoming a good citizen for his new Monarch.

But then, he returns to the place he got used to considering his home - and there, he stops trying. He does his self-assigned chores, eats, and sleeps. And all this time, he thinks of Ilse and he hurts.

  
  
  


In the morning of the fifth day, Aidan finds himself staring at the door to Ilse’s living room and thinking hard.

It’s been five days since Aidan saw his ex-Mistress for the last time. It was enough time for him to get used to adding “ex-” whenever he says the word “owner” or the word “slave”, but definitely too little time to come to terms with the fact that Ilse made him stay away from her without even letting him talk to her one last time.

 Ilse’s absence feels like a bare wound in the carcass of his being. Until now, Aidan couldn’t even imagine how much he depended on her. His previous life with Ilse feels like a safe haven where everything was known and proven to be not deadly while what he has now is a wild maelstroem where he can’t tell up from down. Everyone around him says they mean well but Aidan doesn’t trust any of them. How could he, after the life he had?

 

Ilse.

She is his ex-owner.

Aidan misses her. He shouldn’t.

He shouldn’t trust her either.

 

And yet...

 

He misses her so much!

 

Ilse is the only person he’d like to talk to right now.

 

And also…

 

Ilse is the one who has literally shut him out.

It  _ hurts _ .

 

What hurts even more, though, is not knowing what’s with Ilse right now. This, Aidan won’t be able to bear much longer.

  
  
  


On the fifth day, Aidan goes to his lessons as he is supposed to. There, during a break, one of his peers tells a story about an owner who hanged himself on a curtain after he heard about the abolishment of slavery. It is the last straw.

 

Aidan comes home, finds a tool kit and picks the locks to Ilse’s living room door.

Then to her library door.

Then to her bedroom door.

 

Then, Aidan enters.

  
  
  


Well, now he knows the answers to two of his questions from before.

  1. Ilse was there all this time.
  2. Ilse didn’t eat properly.



 

She is lying on (Aidan’s) futon under the window, her chest rising and falling slowly. She looks exhausted.

There are empty water bottles and a chocolate bar wrapping lying on the floor.

Is it all she had in four days?

 

Aidan tries to wake her up, to talk to her, but she only looks at him with muddy, red eyes and mumbles something incoherent.

That’s when the panic sets in. Aidan starts checking his pockets frantically. There it is, the piece of paper with the phone number!

Aidan connects the landline phone in Ilse’s library to its socket and calls the ex-slaves hotline. That’s the only place to call that came to his mind (they’ve repeated the info about the hotline over and over at the Department, and now Aidan is thankful for that). The social workers quickly transfer him to the ambulance, and, not more than twenty minutes later, Aidan is on his way to the hospital, holding Ilse’s clammy hand in the ambulance car. He is not allowed to enter Ilse’s patient’s room when they arrive, though. A kind lady tells him Ilse had a nervous breakdown, it seems. She will be fine under their care, she promises. Aidan doesn’t have much choice but to trust her - he knows he can’t take care of Ilse better than trained professionals.

He still spends the night on a chair in the hospital hall, if only to hear that Ilse is still alive the next morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ilse is not the most reasonable girl.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	11. 8 days after the Freedom Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aidan finally meets Ilse after she is released from the hospital.  
> They talk.  
> He also gets to know Ilse's personal lawyer, Terry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dears!
> 
> When I originally wrote this chapter, it felt like it changes a lot and puts the dots over "i" and whatever. Now it doesn't feel like it. Uwaa, there's so much to uncover with these two (rips her hair off her head in despair).
> 
> Have a nice reading!
> 
> WARNING: mentions of a suicide attempt and harassment of a minor.

On the first evening after Ilse is admitted to the hospital, Aidan cleans her rooms up. The next days, he airs her rooms every day before going to sleep.

Sleeping in the anteroom, as he did before, seems disrespectful now.

Instead, Aidan moves to the neat corner room the housekeeper occupied. It’s in the servants’ half on the first floor, right under the corridor leading to Ilse’s rooms on the second floor. Aidan doesn’t touch anything there, only uses the bed and the bedside table. He does two rounds of masturbation a day: in the morning and before bed. He decided not to wear the cage during nighttime but he still dutifully puts it on after every morning round and only takes it off before the evening round. To not leave the wrong impression: Aidan hates the cock cage. Every time he has to put it back on, it feels like a step back. He can’t make himself exit the house without that thing on him, though.

Aidan doesn’t want to admit it to himself, but when he treats his dick this way he feels some sort of residual connection with Ilse. It gives him the illusion that he still partly follows her orders. It’s like a little demonstration that he still wants to belong to her, if even in a clipped way. And… the metal around his member feels safe and familiar. The look of his dick, caged in steel, makes him think that everything may return to some semblance of normality. What this normality entails, Aidan can’t tell yet.

 

He calls the hospital three days in a row (they only deign to tell him that she’ll live, basically). He comes there twice but every time he is told she didn’t allow him to visit her. The nurses at the reception look sympathetic, but they can only shrug their shoulders and deliver a rehearsed speech about patient’s rights.

Every time he is sent off, Aidan comes back home and waters Ilse’s plants. He would hate for Ilse to return home and see her flowers wilted. 

Aidan also tries to show Mr Mouse how to be a well-behaved pet. The fluffy shepherd dog is thrilled to be given that much attention, but he is not a fast learner, not by a long shot. It’s more than OK with Aidan. He doesn’t have anything else to do. He would turn to reading (Ilse’s addiction to books may have been contagious) but, alas, the words in books still don’t make any sense to him.

 

One thought plagues Aidan’s mind: he failed Ilse. For five days, instead of taking care of Ilse the way Aidan feels he should have, Aidan visited bureaucratic institutions, read barely understandable documents and listened to nonsensical lectures about his new rights. While she was suffering, alone.

On the third day after Ilse was taken away, Aidan doesn’t go to the hospital. His presence there obviously bothers Ilse so he shouldn’t.

Not going makes him feel even more empty than before. The tiny voice in the back of his mind keeps repeating: what if exactly today her tantrum comes to its end and she finds herself alone in the hospital room, with no one to cheer her up? What if she decides he left her, too? But, for goddess’ sake! Visiting the hospital took a lot of energy out of him and caused him a lot of stress each time. It’s pointless if Ilse refuses to see him! He can’t influence her moods! Aidan shakes off the voice the best he can and looks for another task. 

 

This time, Aidan decides that the passages in the garden require cleaning. Then it turns out that the bushes under the dining room window need some maintenance... The morning goes by quickly. Aidan manages to lose himself in his work. Actually, doing so many things with his hands again gives him a feeling of accomplishment he thought he wouldn’t ever experience again. It makes Aidan feel just a little bit happier about life in general, despite everything.

 

At midday, Aidan is in the garden training Mr Mouse. The dog is already able to give him his paw and pretend to be dead. Aidan finds his overdramatic fall to the ground especially funny.

Suddenly, the door to the property lot opens and Ilse enters followed by her personal lawyer.

They slowly walk towards the entrance, Ilse looking lost and not interested in her surroundings. They don’t notice Aidan standing a few meters away. Mr Mouse, which is convenient, dutifully continues to play dead. Aidan freezes, too. He watches Ilse and Mr Lawyer walk the stairs to the front door and go inside. 

He didn’t expect her to be out of the hospital today. Right?

Aidan is not ready to face her right now.

He’s at a loss of what to do. Does he go to her now? Does he take his things and leave stealthily?

Maybe, Ilse expected to find an empty house. Who knows?

But she is obliged to feed and lodge Aidan for two months, reminds Aidan himself. It’s the new law. She can’t just throw him away.

But, maybe, she’d have him live in the storage room, not the housekeeper’s? Or, maybe, in the servants’ improvised living room? Or… Whatever. Aidan better goes inside, too, and quickly. The lawyer seemed to be a decent guy so far, the few times Aidan has met him. His presence may be to Aidan’s benefit.

Ilse may have called Mr Lawyer herself to collect her from the hospital, thinks Aidan, and a gnawing, suffocating feeling of being inadequate settles in the pit of his stomach. Once again, he couldn’t be there for her. Was unable to take care of her.

He’s such a failure! He’d almost left Ilse to starve inside her rooms. If that other ex-slave boy didn’t tell that story about an owner who killed himself, then...

Ilse could have cried herself to death, alone, and still, Aidan wouldn’t have dared to enter without her explicit permission. Then, when it was already too late, someone without such reservations would have broken the door to Ilse’s room. There, they’d find Ilse, with hollow eyes and cold skin, and…

 

Aidan feels someone licking his hands. It’s Mr Mouse.

Right. Aidan can savour his guilt later; now he needs to feed the shepherd and to bring him to his crate. Then, he will find Ilse and ask her to talk to him.

He can do this.

  
  
  


It doesn’t go as expected. 

Aidan thought he’d come to Ilse’s living room and see them there. Ilse would freak out, he and the other man would try to calm her down, it’ll take some time, then she’ll maybe hiss and curse at them…

What happens instead, makes Aidan feel relieved and jealous at the same time. Because they are not in Ilse’s living room and not in her library, but in her bedroom. To be precise, Mr Lawyer stands in the doorway looking at Ilse asleep in her  bed.

When the lawyer notices Aidan watching him, he closes the door to the bedroom gently and asks in a low voice:

“Must feel nice to finally sleep in her own bed after all these days in the hospital, how’d you think?”

Aidan nods, not knowing how else to react. The lawyer smiles in response, tells Aidan to call him Terry and asks for a cup of tea, please, if it is possible. Reluctantly, Aidan leads him all the way downstairs, to the kitchen. He makes tea in silence, then they go to the dining room with their cups and sit across each other at the beautiful table. Terry looks around with mild curiosity, then asks:

“Are you keeping this house clean alone, Aidan?”

It’s a start. Having to start somewhere, Aidan tells Terry the story of his last eight days. How he was freed, how the house was so empty and still, how Ilse wouldn’t come out of her bedroom… Aidan doesn’t notice how his narration turns from dry chronicles to an emotional story. All this time, Terry listens. When Aidan comes to the events of the current day and stops talking, Terry asks for another cup of tea. Aidan finds biscuits somewhere in the kitchen cabinets and they fill the little pause with munching.

When the biscuits are gone and Aidan doesn’t feel like crying anymore, Terry finishes his tea and starts telling Aidan his side of the story. How he couldn’t contact Ilse after he got news about her family leaving and that her father sold the toy factory that she “owned” - there was a power of attorney in his name involved and some nasty cheating. Ilse’s father has also transferred all “her” money to his account. Basically, if not for Terry’s interference, Ilse would’ve lost the house, too. He tried to contact her every day but to no avail. Then, yesterday, Ilse called Terry from the hospital reception and asked him to take her home if he could, the next day. So Terry did just that.

“I didn’t even think it was so bad. I would have come here sooner…”

“You didn’t know,” - Aidan surprises himself by saying this out loud, to a man he doesn’t know well. - “I waited too long, too. I won’t forgive myself for that, but I didn’t know, too. I didn’t know!”

Now, Aidan does start crying. His feelings burst out of him - as if finding a willing listener cancelled all Aidan’s self-imposed restrictions on trusting people.

Terry doesn’t intrude, doesn’t offer pity, just fishes out a napkin from somewhere and gives it to Aidan to clean his face. When Aidan looks up at him again, Terry smiles sadly. His smile is thin, and his eyes are guarded.

“Aidan,” - he says. - “I can’t stay and wait until she wakes up. There’s so much I still need to do, and she might sleep until the day after tomorrow. Even if I could, I think you should be the one up there watching her. She did a lot of unforgivable things to you. Don’t argue, just listen to me. She did a lot of despicable things to you, her ex-slave, and that will stay with her until she dies. But from what I heard from you, she must have done something good for you, too, otherwise, you wouldn’t have waited for her, watering her plants and keeping her dog entertained. That’s what I think. The rest is up to you.”

They sit in silence for half a minute, then Terry adds:

“I could make a nurse come to the house to help Ilse if you’re not inclined…”

Aidan shakes his head violently. He wants to try to take care of Ilse, he does! But there are so many “ifs” and “buts”, and he is scared of how everything will play out, and it feels like all he loves in his life is at stake right now.

“I just wanted to talk to her,” - whispers Aidan, watching the patterns on the tablecloth.

“That would be a good start,” - agrees Terry. - “I’ll give you my number. Call me at any time. Ilse was… is a special girl, and I don’t want her to suffer if we can avoid it. This clear?”

“Yes, sir,” - answers Aidan.

That makes Terry give a startled laugh.

“It’s Terry. I’m flattered by the level of respect you show to me, young man, but it’s Terry. After all, we ate Ilse’s biscuits together, we should stick to the name basis”.

Aidan smiles despite himself. He lifts his head, and his eyes meet Terry’s appraising gaze. Aidan feels the urge to lift his chin higher and to harden his own stare, so he does just that. Terry laughs.

Aidan brings Terry to the gate and they shake hands.

Now, Aidan is alone with Ilse.

  
  
  
  


Again, nothing goes as expected.

 

Ilse is shocked when she sees him. It throws Aidan off.

She looks calm and coherent. She tells him he’d better leave.

She starts explaining why Aidan will be better off anywhere but next to her.

 

Aidan stops listening after the first phrases because the message sinks in:  _ she wants him to go _ .

A panic so strong Aidan feels it might suffocate him grips Aidan’s chest. Images of himself, entirely alone, among new, uncaring people, burst in Aidan’s mind one after another.

He falls down to his knees in front of the bed, prostrates himself on the floor and begs.

He’s never, ever done this before. Not like that. Not in front of school teachers, not in front of his first owner, not in front of Ilse. He’s never willingly humiliated himself to this extent before. Aidan has avoided this putrid feeling all his life, now that he’s surrendered to it, well... It’s like letting himself rot a little, just a tiny bit. The acidicly-sweet, overpowering, stuffing sensation of his humiliation rolls through Aidan. It's as if it's designed to deliver a certain message to him: see, the sensation seems to say, it doesn’t hurt at all, it’s not as bad as you thought it’d be, you can live with that, it’s manageable.

He  _ needs _ Ilse to let him stay, whatever the costs.

Ilse has to understand that he can’t go away. She has to learn that Aidan is ready to throw himself at her feet and become the slave he was always called in his papers, but never really felt with her.

Aidan wants Ilse to reach out, to chide him sternly, to tell him what to do. He’s not ready for this freedom if it means getting separated from her…

 

Delicate, yet strong hands tug him up by his shoulders. A palm covers his mouth and a tissue is produced to wipe away his tears.

Aidan looks up from under his fringe (the social workers wanted him to go and cut it off so badly; Aidan always refused) and sees that Ilse is sitting on the floor across from him in her pyjamas, her feet tucked under her, her knees wide apart. She is in tears.

Panic swells up anew. Why is she crying? She was so ill she shouldn’t be crying and sitting on the cold floor and…

Ilse catches his gaze and smiles at him ruefully through her tears.

“See? This is what I was afraid of. I’m a horrible person, and you still want to talk to me. I hoped you’d move out while I’m there. Start your new life. Forget me like a nightmare and live on…”

She sniffles and smiles again, a desperate, resigned smile. Aidan is stunned speechless, he can’t comprehend what she is saying  _ at all _ .

“Terry was afraid I’d try to poison myself again. I promised him I won’t. I told myself: you survived so much but you’ve never even considered ending your life so I won’t, too. Though now it feels like a good idea…”

This time, it’s Aidan who covers her mouth with his palms. He feels bad about doing that with his hands that touched the floor but if Ilse doesn’t stop he’s going to be sick.

She can’t be serious!

Ilse gently pries his hands from her face and smiles that resigned smile yet again.

“I never told you, right? It never goes away. I will tell you if you want to listen.”

Aidan nods.

He doesn’t really want to know. He’s afraid of what she might say.

But… She wants him to listen; he can be strong and do it.

 

Ilse tells him how she changed 5 boarding schools from the age of 6 to 10. She couldn’t keep up with the program because of constant nervous breakdowns - she wasn’t very self-confident when at home, but at a dorm, surrounded by other rich girls… She was homeschooled since ten, and Ilse thinks this was when her father started to treat her like a disgrace to the family. At home was better than in a school, but between her cold mom, demanding home teachers and her father’s cool indifference Ilse felt as if she was shrinking on herself with every passing day.

At 12, it happened. A colleague of her father’s, a wealthy man with (as Ilse suspects) mafia ties, has come to their house for dinner. He groped Ilse’s barely forming breasts in a corridor when no one was looking.

It was horrible and scary.

Ilse’s mother said it’s inevitable if you are a woman unless you can provide for yourself.

Ilse’s father tutted disapprovingly, said he’d cut the man’s hands off for touching his daughter if he could but said that he can’t do anything in real life because that man had more power than him. In the end, he advised Ilse to stay away from his guests to not provoke such situations.

Ilse went away and lived with that for 4 years. At 16, she tried to take her life.

She didn’t succeed. But of course she didn’t - she was constantly monitored, as the troublesome child.

Then - hospital, psychologists, psychiatrists, pills, isolation, therapy groups…

Ilse’s depression distanced her from her family even more. Her mother seemed to be angry with her for causing an unnecessary fuss, her father was ashamed of producing such an offspring.

At 17, she started feeling better. At 18, she decided to try for the university. She failed but refused help when her father offered to pay for her tutors. She prepared herself. At 20, she succeeded. At 25, she finished, cum laude, Botanics. Her older brother laughed at her because of her choice of profession (he’s a Business Major and proud of it), her parents admitted defeat in making a proper person from her when they saw her diploma hanging proudly from a wall in her room.

At 25, she also received this house and the toy factory. The house was too big for her, but her father wanted to invest money into something… And he needed her name on papers for the house and for the factory, so. Living alone was a blessing Ilse couldn’t expect.

Ilse finally had a house to make her home.

 

Aidan thinks the story is over (and it’s too much already; he had a suspicion Ilse was hurt in her life too, but he would’ve never thought…) when Ilse starts telling him how she decided she needed to have at least a little more control over her life. Or, in other words, how she ended up buying Aidan.

There were always “special” thoughts in her head, some weird, some just unseemly. She couldn’t talk about them to anyone she knew. Since she started to live alone, she allowed herself to use the Internet to look up the topics that interested her. In the beginning, she really contemplated trying to talk to some free persons who were interested in spankings and pain. Then, she realised she won’t be able to do that, ever, and even if she did, her father could interfere. The thought oh her father laughing at her perverted nature was unimaginable. Ilse was ashamed of herself as is, she didn’t need anyone to point out what a horrible, twisted person she was and add to her inner struggle. It took her two years to come to terms with herself a bit. She was still too scared to contact any free people who would accept her “special” hobbies.

She was ready to give up when, one day, her father ordered a dog to be delivered to her without even notifying her in advance, and it became the last straw. Ilse dislikes dogs, and her father knew it full well. It was a gift he received from a business partner from overseas, but instead of finding a place for the dog in his own house, he just dumped it on Ilse’s head. When she complained, her father said something along the lines of: imagine it’s just a furry azalea.

“I got so angry over such a trivial thing! We both knew that I have enough staff to never ever see this dog and that it won’t be a real burden. But the fact that he didn’t even call ahead!”

Aidan imagines Ilse fuming and trying to get to terms with another intrusion into her personal life. After she did everything to stay away from her family as much as she could, real independence stayed unreachable.

“I must sound whiny to you,” - says Ilse. - “A girl who could walk away and never look back. Maybe, I’d have had to move to the other side of the country to hide from him. But I never even tried! I could have found a job, started paying my own bills… But I never knew how! I was never on my own. All my decisions were not mine to make. I dreamt of leaving, of being away from this stupid family, but I never really considered actively working to achieve this. I’m too weak.”

Aidan wants to say that no, she is not weak, that she was broken, just like he was, but before he finds the right words, Ilse speaks again:

“So I stayed. After that case with the dog, I made a decision: I will buy myself a slave. I will choose wisely and will do the things to him I always wanted to do to someone. I felt shitty about myself and my decision, actually. But I told myself that I won’t be like my father and other slave owners. I won’t make the person I buy feel diminished. I won’t make their life hell.”

With sudden clarity, Aidan remembers that one time when Ilse has outdone herself and hurt him very badly. And how she realised what she’d done and started acting distant.

Was it because she remembered her original vows to herself?

“I spent the year looking for possibilities and training on dummies in one of the unused guestrooms. Wielding implements turned out to be harder than I ever thought! I had to do sports, too!”

Ilse huffs, seemingly remembering the difficulties she faced in the past.

Aidan can’t help but smile at the thought of Ilse caning some poor piece of plastic. Well, he has to thank her for that, otherwise, he might have been in a much worse state by now.

“And then, at my 28 years, you came into play. Finally. I wanted someone who wouldn’t be afraid of me. I thought that buying a slave from an auction would be a blind bargain. I didn’t have a way to assess the slave’s personality even if I read all their files. I went to some of such events. That was not what I wanted at all. And then I overheard a lady who sat next to me at one auction. She said that she saw such pretty boys on her brother’s farm, it was a shame they had no manners so this woman couldn’t take one home. The rest I’ve told you already.”

Aidan’s head is whirling with thoughts. He asks the most evident question that comes to his mind:

“Why did you choose me? Only because they decided to whip me when you came to visit?”

Ilse’s face screws up in a self-deprecating smile.

“Three reasons: you survived it, you could stand afterwards, you were cute.”

Aidan can’t believe his ears.

“Cute? With my back bleeding?”

Ilse closes her mouth shut with a pained expression.

“I don’t have anything to say to my defence,” - she mutters.

 

Aidan breathes through his anger. He is not going to lash out at Ilse right after he begged her not to send him away. He doesn’t want to lash out at her. He is here to talk. Talk. Not fucking shout.

He turns away from his ex-Mistress. He breathes.

Slowly, but the anger dissipates, leaving the old hurt behind. She bought him because he was cute. Cute. His pretty face and blond curls changed his life. Does she even know how badly they have punished him that day? Can she even imagine how it felt?..

Aidan curses inwardly. He doesn’t want Ilse to experience this, ever. He won’t wish it upon her even in his darkest hour.

 

Ilse is mumbling something beside him. Aidan strains his ears:

“Once, just once I wanted to take something for myself! I knew it was bad and selfish but why would everyone get their wishes granted, but not I? So I bought Aidan. It was a mistake. I knew it would be. I still did it. I knew I can’t do such things to a living boy. I’m a monster.”

Surprising himself, Aidan starts speaking, shocking Ilse out of her quiet mumbling:

“You know I was raped repeatedly, right?”

Ignoring Ilse’s gasp of surprise, Aidan goes on:

“Every time, my overseer had me tied up and helpless, and he ordered to whip me before it, too. But I was a big boy and I didn’t expect to get any help from the start. I was all alone in the world.”

Then, as if a bulb lights up above his head, Aidan suddenly knows what to say next.

“You were all alone, too, but you couldn’t admit it, like me - you kept hoping that your mother and father will love you. But they didn’t. So, you bought me, and you tried to be my everything. And you succeeded, Ilse. You are the most important person for me.”

Ilse is trembling with her hands gripping the hem of her pyjamas’ shirt tightly.

“You can’t say that, Aidan. I’m a monster.”

“Yes, I know.”

Ilse looks up at him, bewildered.

Aidan suddenly wants to laugh, loudly. He shakes his head.

“What makes you so surprised? As if I had a chance not to notice, Ilse. Yes, I won’t try to tell you you’re the most docile person in the world. It’s not the truth, obviously. Well... This is how you know I wouldn’t lie to you, even now.”

“And what, doesn’t it look stupid to you to stay here if you know the real me?” - Ilse challenges, a new resolve shining in her features.

Aidan looks Ilse in the eyes and says:

“The real you gave me my own room, with a separate bathroom and a place to put my things. The real you showed me that owners can not only inflict pain on me, but also take care of my injuries. The real you told me to spend time with Mr Mouse even if you clearly dislike dogs. The real you gave me books to read and talked to me and pet my hair. The real you fed me the finest foods. The real you fired a gardener who slapped my butt once. The real you comforted me after my nightmares… Ilse! Oh, Ilse, why are you crying now?”

“I, - hiccup, - don’t d-d… - another hiccup, - deserve your m-mercy!”

“Oh no, you don’t,” - says Aidan magnanimously. - “No one deserves me. I’m just the prettiest! Do you even know how many girls try to hit on me every day? Boys, too… Mmm. I could have had so much love by now.”

Ilse swats at his arm, giggling through her tears. Aidan chuckles in response, too.

She wipes her tears away and jokes:

“Those young people won’t know who they’re dealing with.”

“Oh, they will know. I have no reasons not to say the things I think out loud now.”

“Aidan, no! This world doesn’t work like that!” - says Ilse in a panicky voice.

“Aidan, yes! For example, your face is all red and puffy, especially around your eyes! You look like an annoyed hamster.”

“No, I don’t,” - mutters Ilse, dumbfounded.

Here, Aidan finally laughs. For the first time since she closed the door to her rooms in front of him, he laughs, and laughs, and laughs. Ilse swats at him a couple of times more, with no result, then just starts laughing with him.

They will be alright, thinks Aidan then.

They will break through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you say, my pretty birds?
> 
> Is Aidan going in the right direction? Do you hate Ilse?
> 
> Thank you for reading, as always!
> 
>  
> 
> And there are lots of bonuses today!  
>   
> First of all, the overview of the first floor: the main living room in the middle, the dining room to the left and the servants' rooms to the right.
> 
>   
>   
> These are the "servants' quarters" of Ilse's house.  
>   
>   
> The living room for the staff.  
>   
>   
> The rooms of the higher-class staff: the gardener, the head guard, the housekeeper. The corner room is the one Aidan chose to sleep in!  
>   
>   
> The rooms of the slaves (to the right, in red) and the free servants (to the left, in pink)  
> 


	12. 1 month after the Freedom Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aidan and Ilse organize their new life together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there!
> 
> This is a happy chapter. I feel warm from rereadng it.  
> I hope you will feel the same.

It’s been a whole month since the Freedom Day. It feels like the three weeks after Aidan and Ilse’s most important conversation were spent talking, too.

 

They do other things, too, of course. They even have developed a routine of sorts.

It’s new, and soft, and soothing, and nothing like the routine they had before the Day.

 

Aidan would go to the Department, get his fill of the adaptation program and return home. Now that there is Ilse expecting his return at the mansion, he would use public transportation instead of walking. Turns out, it’s not scary at all (in the very least, not as bad as it seemed when he tried to choose the right bus route to reach the hospital).

In the evening, at the time Aidan is supposed to be back, Ilse would wait for him in the main living room. She’d hide her worry behind a smiling facade, but Aidan would still notice. Every day, she is afraid that Aidan will change his mind and stay at the ex-slaves dorms. Aidan doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he smiles back at her and hopes that she doesn’t notice how he is scared of a very similar thing: that Ilse would change the locks on the doors or move out while he is absent.

Ilse discovered a food delivery company that agreed to send only female employees to her house. Ilse doesn’t even try to cook herself, but this way, Aidan, at least, doesn’t have to worry about the groceries. It’s a big plus in his eyes. When it comes to the household chores on the overall, Ilse participates where she can which, again,  makes things easier for Aidan. He would readily do everything alone, but Ilse always offers her help - and, unexpectedly, it does make a difference. No, not like that. It changes everything.

It’s very fragile, their newly-found partnership. Aidan still can’t fully grasp the significance of it - it seems enormous, maybe, more important than anything he’s had in his life before that.

 

Aidan thinks that actual activity during the day (not limited to work-outs in the gym) made him look a thousand times better than a month ago. It’s not about his physique, it’s about the feeling of freedom that fills his whole body.

Ilse, too, looks healthier and happier than ever before - Aidan is not the only one who profits from their new way of living, surely. The major part of her day is devoted to taking care of her plants - and Aidan only has to help when it comes to the garden outside. Ilse is so proud of her accomplishments - Aidan can’t find it in himself to suggest she sells some of the plants to make it easier on her.

 

Among other things, Aidan and Ilse have overlooked his “wardrobe”. He chose skirts and blouses he is willing to wear (and put all the dresses aside). Ilse also let him order a few jeans and t-shirts on the Internet. This way, Aidan has his choice of outfits that please him, now.

He goes to his studies in the clothes provided by the state, to not stand out. When he returns home, he often changes for a skirt and a t-shirt. He finds it convenient. Ilse praises his looks.

 

In the evenings, after Aidan cooks a meal and they have dinner together (sitting across from each other at the table, fully clothed), they spend some time in each other’s company. There are several ways it can go.

They would take blankets and sit on a bench at the bonfire in the garden, Mr Mouse lying in the grass at some distance - present, but not intruding. Turns out, he was called Rubius Murdock Shining at birth and retained his name when given to Ilse. After learning it, Aidan starts to call the dog “my shining little Mouse” when no one is in the hearing distance.

They would go to that grave Aidan is still so fascinated about and compete in making the most ridiculous stories about its origins, ignoring the epitaph on the headstone.

They would sit in Ilse’s living room and read together. Aidan is allowed to choose his books now, and, just as he thought, he likes Ilse’s fantasy novels. A lot.

When the time to sleep comes, Aidan would go to his room (the ex-housekeeper’s room is now officially his), take the cage off, do his thing, dress in his new striped pyjamas (also Ilse’s gift) and come upstairs to wish Ilse good night. Often, they would end up sitting in her bed and talking for hours. Sometimes, Aidan would wait for Ilse to fall asleep while he’s still there so that she doesn’t feel lonely.

 

Both Aidan and Ilse feel the pull towards each other. They both want to sleep in one bed again as they did before the Day. Yet, at the same time, each of them is afraid of what may come out of it.

Aidan doesn’t want to ever feel as desperate as when he begged Ilse to take him back. It is not a part of the future life he pictures for himself. He doesn’t know exactly what he will do in the next years, but he can’t be tied to anyone like that anymore. He won’t allow that.

Ilse seems to have the same reservations. She is so afraid that she may influence Aidan’s decisions too much that she refrains from giving him any opinions on many subjects. It drives Aidan nuts some days - why does Ilse have to appear as if she doesn’t have any tastes and preferences? He tries to not let his annoyance show, of course.

Deep inside, Aidan is grateful for Ilse’s efforts. He has spent a year and two months looking at the world through the lenses of Ilse’s pleasure. He often catches himself planning something how he knows Ilse would want it. Aidan stops himself when he does it. He and Ilse agreed to become friends. Friends care for each other, but they don’t live each other’s lives, according to Ilse. Aidan tries to abide by it.

It is not easy. Ilse still has temper-tantrums when something goes wrong. Aidan still feels that strange resignation when she gets angry; as if he is preparing himself mentally to get hurt again. They agreed that he’ll remind her to go to her room to cool down when she acts out of line and doesn’t listen to words. Aidan does that. Ilse complies.

Aidan thinks that these scenes must look surreal to an onlooker: it’s as if Aidan sends Ilse, the rightful owner of the house, to her room like a little girl. He finds a strange irony in that. Thankfully, when the emotions die down after another outburst, Ilse comes back to Aidan and apologizes. Aidan always accepts her apology, and they have “conciliatory” tea. Aidan downplays the importance of those apologies to save Ilse’s pride a bit, but to him, they make a world of difference. Ilse looking contrite and actively searching his forgiveness breaks the mold like nothing else.

Terry (he keeps in touch) says that it’s alright that Ilse still has her anger management problem - she couldn’t get rid of it in the snap of a finger, it’s not humanly possible. Terry also added once that Ilse has never had a real rebel phase when she was a teenager (her suicide attempt has been something else) so she might be going through that stage now. Aidan couldn’t help but scoff at this idea when Terry explained it. Why does it have to look like he’s educating his ex-Owner, for heaven’s sake?

  
  


There’s one more little detail.

Aidan thinks that he may like Ilse.

Alone in his new room at night, Aidan sometimes plays that one scene from their past in his mind. The one where she teased his nipples, and he desperately wanted to come from her caresses. More often than not, he ends up touching himself to these images. He feels only moderately guilty about that - Ilse didn’t ask him when she did that to him, and he won’t feel ashamed for using his past experience for something good.

In the morning, when he is hazy with sleep, Aidan likes to imagine Ilse playing with him as she did before. Spanking him on his butt, making him moan and writhe, laughing at his groans of pain. Teasing him here and there, slowly making him desperate for release. And then, when Aidan starts to beg, Ilse from his fantasy finally touches his dick and allows him to come. He is never hurt too much in these fantasies - just enough to amuse Ilse. It’s all good and arousing, and the fantasy-Ilse doesn’t make a disgusted face when her bare hand gets covered in Aidan’s slick. Aidan likes these daydreams.

Just to be able to make a fair judgement, Aidan sometimes attempts to take a good look at the ex-slave girls he meets at the Department. They are cute, some - even very beautiful. But no one catches his attention. He tries to look at the boys there, too. No attraction at all, just like he thought.

  
  


One day, three boys he’s never seen before come to the meeting at the Department. They take a stand in front of the audience and tell the ex-slaves gathered there about their own experience. All three turn out to be ex-slaves, too, one even coming from an infamous “sex-school”. Aidan sympathizes with the guy. He thinks that being violated occasionally is not as bad as being taught that having sex is the only purpose in life.

At least, the boys were lucky and ended up with a good master. The way they talk about him, Aidan has no doubt that the man didn’t hurt or overworked them. Among other things, the boys mention how their ex-owner is now using his mansion to help ex-slaves in need.

In their stories, the three ex-slaves concentrate on the negative stuff, mostly. How they all have nightmares, how they lost their families (the ones who had any). Summarizing their presentation, the boys advise everyone to not ignore the option of “talking to a psychologist” that’s available to all ex-slaves. They even cheerily announce that their friend works as a psychologist in this very building, and they would be happy to recommend him.

When Aidan walks home this evening (he texted Ilse from the new simple phone she gave him to notify that he’ll be back later), two thoughts barrel for his attention:

One, it’s impossible to keep the whole house clean when it’s just the two of them. What if they could lend the spaces to the Department? Ilse only has enough money to live on until the end of the year with how her father has taken everything with him. Then, she won’t be able to pay the taxes for the house. Unless she finds a well-paid job, quickly, which is not realistic. Aidan thinks: what if we invite slaves here? Make it just a good place to come and stay for a week or two. Live in a real house, not a dorm. No pressure. They could only invite women. Ilse could hold lectures about plants, to those who are interested… He will talk to Terry first. 

And two, Aidan thinks he could go to therapy, too. The boy from the meeting who was taught to be a sex-slave said it helped with his nightmares, a little. Aidan would take “a little”. Even a “very little”. Visiting a psychologist can’t be worse than sitting through Ilse’s board meetings, at any rate. He can do this.

 

Aidan enters through the gates and sees Ilse trying to avoid Mr Mouse’s playful leaps at her without screaming at the poor dog.

“Mr Mouse!” - calls Aidan, and the giant shepherd comes running at him. After petting his fluffy head, Aidan comes closer to Ilse, the dog running in circles around him, and asks:

“Why don’t you make him play dead as I showed you?”

“Then he’d have to play dead for the rest of the day!” - says Ilse in her whiny voice. She plays up her distress and pouts at Aidan, hoping that he’ll comfort her; knowing, that he can hardly refuse when she does so; deeply enjoying when he indulges her, as well.

Aidan would make a poor nanny.

The battle is lost before it’s started: Aidan pities Ilse loudly, compassionately. He even makes Mr Mouse sit in front of him and lectures the unsuspecting dog on how to respect Ilse’s privacy. Mr Mouse wags his tail and barks at Aidan playfully. But he stays in position, for which Aidan rewards him with head pats.

Ilse looks down at the dog triumphantly, as if Aidan has truly punished a culprit who offended her and not just berated an innocent animal for ten minutes straight.

She’s spoiled rotten, and Aidan only adds to it!

 

Ilse is so horrible! Unimaginably!

 

Aidan still thinks that he might like her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does it seem like a happy ending to you? What would you say to Aidan and Ilse?)
> 
> It's the last big chapter here - there's only one left. I feel scared, a bit. I don't want to part ways with my characters now when they only start feeling happy! It's inevitable, though. They need to have a life without my influence! (*tears up*)  
>  
> 
> And the bonuses today are the pictures of the grave and the bonfire in front of Ilse's house!  
> Upd. Aidan can totally see the grave from the windows of his new room! Omg! I bet he's OK with it. Memento mori and all that. 
> 
>   
> 


	13. 2 months after the Freedom Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aidan and Ilse are getting used to their new life.  
> They even visit the Department together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my dears!
> 
> I am finally able to say that this story is finished. Ilse and Aidan have a whole life ahead of them - but we will leave them at this point.  
> I am happy that I managed to bring this work to a conclusion. It was not easy, from the very first drafts until the last chapter. Took me long enough!  
> I hope it's a sign of my developing skill and nothing else.  
> I am so very thankful to everyone who has been supportive all this time!
> 
> Have a nice read! This journey is almost over!
> 
> Warning: mentions of side characters' deaths (in the past).

Monday morning finds Ilse and Aidan at the edge of a catastrophe. 

Or, to dial down the drama: on Monday, Aidan drives Ilse’s car to the Department, and Ilse is _not_ _thrilled_.

She makes little pitiful noises at every turn and bump on the road; like a tiny little animal getting ready to be inevitably crushed by something large and unstoppable. Aidan finds it cute. He only wishes he could keep watching Ilse instead of the road since she must make the prettiest picture, all flustered like that. He didn’t get to see her out of control often, and it’s a welcome change of pace.

In Aidan’s opinion, he does quite well with the driving thing, even if he can barely avoid bumping another car in the parking lot at the very end of their ride. He grins to himself thinking that he’s got it.

Aidan changes his mind after he can finally take a good look at Ilse who is looking very pale and truly scared on the passenger seat next to him. Immediately, he feels guilty for his gloating. Moreover, he doesn’t know how to react: to pretend nothing’s wrong (and hurt her feelings) or to try to apologize and comfort her (which comes with the risk of her tears).

“Driving a car is different from driving a tractor, huh,” - he manages after a long, uncomfortable pause. Ilse nods, breathing out through her nose loudly. She visibly contemplates what Aidan deserves for underestimating her fear that way, and Aidan braces for the impact. However their dynamic has changed, this time he deserves a verbal lashing and will take it with dignity. Yet, when Ilse opens her mouth, preparing herself to give Aidan a piece of her mind, a policeman with a solemn look comes at their car, completely out of the blue, and asks for their documents. 

Immediately, Ilse schools her face into a neutral expression and gives the policeman her ID and her driving license. She ruins any chance at making the right impression when she starts talking, though.

“I’m teaching him to drive,” - Ilse pronounces in a tone that suggests she is about to faint or to puke. Aidan swallows guiltily.

The policeman ignores her slip. He checks her documents and then takes Aidan’s ID (with the ex-slave mark on it). He checks it a little longer than he did Ilse’s papers but everything seems to be in order. Formally, there’s nothing the man can accuse them of. Maybe, this is why the policeman doesn’t reprimand them, just recommends Aidan to maybe search for free driving lessons at the facility. Then, the man takes his farewell.

Ilse and Aidan both exhale in relief and slump in their seats.

Aidan thinks that Ilse is about to finally scold him for his reckless idea (and remind him of his “Come on, Ilse, I’ve been driving trucks around the farm for two years!” with that annoying  nasty little sneer of hers), but, unexpectedly for himself, he prevents it by bursting out laughing when he remembers the faces Ilse made on the road. Aidan can’t stop wheezing, and, after piercing him with an incredulous stare for half a minute, Ilse follows suit. She only allows herself a tiny amused sound, first, but who is she kidding? Soon, she’s holding her sides and laughing her head off, same as Aidan. They laugh until their bellies hurt, then take a look at each other’s scrunched faces and start giggling anew. And anew. And then some more. Finally, with tears in their eyes, they climb out of the car. Ilse wobbles a little but refuses to accept Aidan’s hand, still a little annoyed by him. But then she smiles, and the curse is broken. She decided not to dwell on the car incident, then. Aidan smiles back happily; now, it’s so much better!

They start walking to the Department’s building side by side. Aidan relishes in the feeling of being together with Ilse, close to her, both physically and emotionally. He will cook what she wants today as an apology if she allows it. Mr Mouse is going to pretend they were absent for days when they get back… They are at the front porch, a sudden thought interrupts his musings.

Aidan turns his head to Ilse and asks:

“How are you going to go home after our appointment? You don’t want to wait for me until the evening lessons are over, do you?”

They didn’t think their plan through, that much was clear, but the extent of their mistake becomes visible only now. It’s a total disaster. Aidan overestimated his own driving skill, and Ilse didn’t realise that she mostly forgot how to drive at all.

At least, they are a good match, tells Aidan himself.

He throws a look towards their parking lot - the car is safe but there’s no way one of them drives it back home today.

Next to him, Ilse whirls around in distress and stares at her car helplessly, too. She’s also looking at Aidan as if expects him to come up with some genius solution all of a sudden. Aidan doesn’t know, to laugh or to facepalm. He can bet Ilse doesn’t even remember trams and busses exists, that several busses go directly to their city district, and, most importantly, that she has an equal right to be a client of public transportation as anyone else.

Aidan imagines making Ilse enter a bus without starting to prepare her for it a week in advance and facepalms for real. OK, nothing too horrible here. A bus ride just means lots of waiting and less comfort for her.

Or they can take a taxi, remembers Aidan. This option exists! No one would steal Ilse’s car if it’s parked here and he specifically asks one of the guards to keep an eye on it. The personnel at the Department is super-friendly to ex-slaves, and Aidan reminds himself to never take it for granted. Is there a way to relay his appreciation to the workers’ superiors? If there is one, Aidan will make use of it.

And Aidan will be sure to follow the policeman’s advice on the driving lessons. The sooner - the better. Those, he should’ve started attending a week ago, too.

 It’s going to be fine, after all.

ow, they have to go inside. Car trouble or no car trouble, but Aidan has a life-changing appointment today. Or so he hopes. It can go a lot of different ways.

To put it shortly: right after the Day, Aidan made a request for information on his parents. The information has been collected and he was summoned. Finally. Aidan tried not to dwell on it, but the waiting has been excruciating. But today, when it’s officially over, Aidan doesn’t feel anything special: no anticipation, no fear, nothing.

It’s just a usual day, like any other. He may have overdone it with asking Ilse to accompany him here as his source of moral support. Well, it’s done and can’t be changed anymore: at 9 a.m. sharp, Aidan and Ilse enter the administrator’s office together. 

There, in the half-empty space with high ceilings and entirely too many cracks in the plaster on the walls (it’s better suited to be a broom closet than a working place of a state official, of that Aidan is sure) Aidan learns that both of his parents are dead. He expected that much but somehow, unbeknownst to him, the hope for the better was still there. 

Aidan learns that his father had been euthanized about the same time that Aidan had been taken to the boarding school: the man was too old to continue working. Aidan’s mother had been resold to another owner and died shortly after that as she couldn’t bear losing both her husband and Aidan.

The official offers her condolences but Aidan doesn’t really hear her behind the roaring in his ears. He’s so shocked that he doesn’t notice Ilse going into hysterics on the plastic chair next to him first. But he is not wired to ignore Ilse’s needs. So Aidan forgets his own woes for a while, trying to console the weeping Ilse who actually seems more affected than him. One might think it was her who made the request and received bad news. Aidan doesn’t know what to make of it but Ilse is simply devastated by his family’s story. She cries and cries, telling him in circles that it’s unfair and inhumane. The administrator mercifully gives her some time to calm down. When that (admittedly, little) time is up, and Ilse doesn’t show any signs of quieting, Aidan is tersely reminded that there are other ex-slaves behind the door waiting for their equally important appointments. Aidan thanks the administrator and tugs Ilse to the exit.

He has a feeling it’s going to be a long day.

 

Half an hour later, they sit on a bench in the corridor, and Ilse is still heaving with sobs when a presumably ex-slave woman comes at them and gives Ilse a tangerine. Ilse clutches the fruit in her hands on autopilot and, otherwise, does nothing with it. Aidan doesn’t pay the newcomer any mind; goddess sees, his thoughts are elsewhere. The ex-slave woman then sits next to them at a little distance (and Aidan still doesn’t really notice her) and starts quietly narrating something. Turns out, it’s the story of her own parents. It’s even darker than Aidan’s own. Both Aidan and Ilse freeze in shock when the woman’s words start registering in their brains.

 Maybe, the woman needed someone to listen to her. Maybe, it was not that. Most certainly, she thought that Ilse was the one here who lost her family; it doesn’t matter much, though - if she was, Aidan suspects the result would’ve been the same. Whatever the case, if the woman expected that sharing similar experience would help in consoling Ilse, she was mistaken. After taking the woman’s narration in, Ilse’s crying intensifies. The woman tries to calm Ilse down, now that her story is over (and the reaction she gets is not what she’s bargained for), but her words have no positive effect on Ilse. Aidan continues ignoring the woman - Ilse’s fierce mourning and the whirlpool of his own thoughts leave no place for anyone else.  In the end, she throws a sad glance at Aidan and leaves.

Aidan holds Ilse close and hopes no one else would come near them. He can’t deal with things now. He can’t.

Thankfully, Aidan’s wish is granted this time: the universe leaves them alone. Aidan feeds Ilse the tangerine, slice for slice, and tries to come to terms with his new knowledge.

Turns out, he is alone in the world. Strangely, but while Aidan is a little annoyed with that woman whose misguided attempt to help only terrified Ilse all the more (to be true, he is more angry with himself, for allowing it), Aidan is thankful for the woman’s shared experience. She lost her parents young, but she still hurts, even at her mature age. Then, it isn’t abnormal that he feels so much worse than before after learning the truth. It’s been what, an hour?..

Aidan’s mouth quirks in a humorless grimace.

How long is it going to take to come to terms with this new pain? How long before it nestles somewhere deep in his soul, hidden from the light of day, and this incessant burning, right where his heart is supposed to be, stops?

Before, there was hope. Maybe, his mother survived and he’ll see her?.. That’s what he was telling himself at the hardest of times. Now, he can’t do even that.

Suddenly, Aidan misses his parents so much… He doesn’t remember them - all the images of his childhood are a blur - but he does remember the feeling of safety and love that they shared with him. The reality slowly sets in - he won’t ever be able to feel that again. It’s really, truly gone. Gone forever.

Aidan didn’t realise how much he relied on the thoughts of his mother and father _being_ somewhere, holding memories of him, missing him. He knew they have always been there for him until a certain point in the past separated them from each other. He knew they loved him when their family was still together - nothing prevented his parents from continuing to love him, even from afar.

But what does it matter now when the possibility of ever returning to his family is ruled out?

With sudden clarity, Aidan thinks: he still loves them. He never stopped loving them and never will.

Then another thought strikes Aidan. _Them_ as a family have stopped existing long ago; his mother and father have been dead for so long that in Aidan’s clearer memories he’s always alone. Yet, inside himself, Aidan still believed that his parents are alive, thought of them as of living people. Aidan feels like an idiot for being so naive. Grief and anger flood him when he feels how a part of his beliefs about the world and how it’s built is dissolving.

Staring blankly at the wall in front of him, Aidan pets Ilse’s shoulders and head and thinks how he will have to build this part of his inner world anew. Maybe, fill it with new ideas. New memories.

By his side, Ilse sniffles loudly and requires that he finds her a tissue. Aidan takes it as the saving line it is and busies himself with taking care of Ilse. She is whiny and demanding and very much alive. She needs Aidan now, undoubtedly, even if she’s being a little bitch about it.

While watching Ilse blow her nose, Aidan thinks (and he seems to be unable to lie to himself anymore in this half-numb state), he does love Ilse. In the way he loved his parents and in many other ways, too. He feels protective of Ilse all of a sudden. He remembers how easily he could’ve lost her forever, mere two months ago, and it scares him, even in retrospect.

He’s lucky things played out as they did. He’s lucky Ilse still wanted him around as just Aidan, and not her slave Aidan. 

Aidan hugs Ilse tightly and tries to stop himself from weeping - at least one of them has to keep his cool! Ilse hugs back just as tightly and starts a new bout of crying. Aidan sighs, rubbing Ilse’s back in circles. She’s warm, and her smell is so familiar, so… comforting. 

Aidan doesn’t care about the trouble she brings. She’s alive, and breathing, and feeling, and she has his back, and Aidan doesn’t ever want to let her go.

 

Aidan misses a lecture because Ilse gets close to coherent only an hour and a half later. Washing their faces at the bathroom takes some more time. Then, it’s already Aidan’s turn to go to the psychologist - the other reason for Ilse to tag along today, even if she intended to refuse to go into the doctor’s office with him until the very last minute when she suddenly said that she’ll go. It’ll be Aidan’s fourth visit. It feels like the first time he went was a few lifetimes ago.

Maybe, Ilse just forgot to be nervous due to the stress she’s handled at the official’s office - such commotions tend to put things into perspective. It’s even convenient that Aidan’s visit to the psychologist is now. This way, Aidan won’t have to be alone with Ilse’s fresh emotions. He is lucky - his psychologist is so much better at comforting people than he is.

At the same time, Aidan yearns to be home alone with Ilse right now: to curl up under one blanket, to cuddle, and to feel safe again. They won’t have a chance at that very soon; but patience, as Aidan knows, is a virtue - no one is going to prevent them from cuddling when they finally reach Ilse’s mansion, he just has to steel himself and wait for a little more.

Aidan takes Ilse’s hand and, together, they wander through the corridors. Aidan is here every weekday for two months but the navigation still takes time - with all due respect, the Department is a maze.

Finally, they are at the right doorstep. Without much fanfare, Aidan knocks and pushes the door open after hearing a muffled “Hello!” from the other side. Inexplicably, but this small sound already aids to calming Aidan down and fills him with warmth.

They enter.

“Hey, Ryan”, - greets Aidan, his voice wavering just a tiny bit. - “This is my ex-owner, Ilse. I always wanted to introduce you to each other.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, thank you, thank you!
> 
> I can't even tell you how grateful I am to all who dedicated their time to my reading!  
> Was it worth it? Did the story finish in a way that satisfies you?  
> I hope the answer to both questions is "yes"!
> 
> You can always tell me what your expectations were and how they correlate with the real ending!
> 
> Thank you again and - see you!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there!
> 
> I hope you had a nice time reading! Come back for a new chapter in two days!
> 
> And now, I beg you, please, leave a comment!  
> Even if it's one word or a smiley, it makes me so much happier every time!
> 
> You can contact me here:  
> on Twitter [Falka-tyan](https://twitter.com/FalkaTyan/)  
> or on Tumblr [Falka-tyan](http://falka-tyan.tumblr.com/)


End file.
